A Change of Fate
by TheTruffalo
Summary: What would happen if Sansa Stark travelled back in time to the beginning? How would she change the future? She is not a Little Bird this time, no, now she is a wolf. This time she will come out on top. The question is, who will she bring with her and who will be the collateral? It is all in the days work when playing the Game of Thrones; and she has learned from the best.
1. Chapter 1

Sansa panted in sheer terror as the dagger dug painfully into her throat. She pleaded with her eyes helplessly at the three figures staring in shock and fear. Littlefinger twisted the dagger, drawing a drop of blood that trickled uselessly down her throat. Warm tears streamed down her face endlessly as she whimpered. This was it, it was her time.

"Don't do this" Tyrion, her husband begged, eyes dancing between her and the man behind her. His green eye was filled with rage whilst the black looked at her with love and panic. She hated seeing him so distressed; her strong husband.

Sansa's eyes flickered to Ghost who was inching forward from his masters side in order to protect her.

She heard Littlefinger hiss from behind her, "Order your beast back, _Snow_ , or I will maim her before I kill her"

Sansa trembled and her breath hitched in fear. She saw the agony and pain painted clearly on Tyrion's face. She tried to send him a smile for comfort but he simply swallowed.

"Enough of this. Release her. Now" The Queen's voice rang with authority but it was too late for that. He had gone mad. Daenerys Targaryen's purple eyes were pure steel as they promised dark vengeance but it was too late for her now. She was a goner.

Sansa looked towards her high windows and saw the first licks of dawn appearing on the horizon. The sun began to light up the dense streets of Kings Landing. Sansa knew this was her time. Her life had been too wonderful as of late. It had two years since her dreaded escape from the Vale when her brother Jon and husband had appeared to rescue her with the dragon Queen. She had been forced to wed Littlefinger a sennight before and been crowned queen of the North, Riverlands and Vale with him as her king when they finally arrived. She shivered remembering the awful time being in his bed. She had been stripped of her titles and moved to Kings Landing with Jon and her husband. After Harry and Littlefinger, Tyrion was a huge relief and a joy to be married to. After all the pain and hardships she had been through his quick wit and affectionate behaviour was like a balm healing her soul. She truly loved him with every fibre of her being.

Sansa's eyes flickered down to her stomach and thought about the young babe that had quickened within her. She had not had the opportunity to tell Tyrion and now she never would. She gulped as more tears streamed down her face at the thought.

Sansa's eyes sought the Queens and gave her a weak smile. Dany's eyes filled with tears and Sansa's heart wept for her best friend who was seemingly invincible in such pain. Sansa had never had a truer friend than Daenerys Targaryen.

Next, her eyes met her brothers – her cousin in actuality but despite being now known as a Targaryen he would always be her brother. A true Stark – and she whispered a goodbye to him and saw his grey eyes twitch in panic and sorrow.

Finally, she looked at her husband. Her small, deformed but utterly beautiful husband Tyrion. She let all the gratitude and love she had for him shine in her eyes as she mouthed, 'I love you' one last time.

"If I can't have you no one will" Littlefinger hissed as the blade drew across her throat.

Sansa faintly heard the shouts and screams ringing in her ears but her eyes were focused on her husbands before everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa shot up on the bed screaming her lungs out. Her form was completely drenched in sweat. Her hands flew to her throat and she clutched it in panic. She panted and continued screaming in terror even though she had awoken, eyes frantically darting around the room.

She was not in her chambers in Kings Landing. Sansa looked around the oddly familiar room but could not place it and continued to scream in fear of not knowing where she was. The bed next to her was cold and empty, missing the warm and small form her husband. Where was she? Had she been kidnapped? The last thing she remembered was... Her eyes widened. Was she dead? Was this heaven? Or perhaps, she thought warily, hell...

Suddenly, the door burst open to armed guards who looked around the room in alarm. She drew in a sharp breath. Who were these strange men? Her panic rose even more but she stopped screaming and was now gripping the furs surrounding her.

"Lady Sansa, what is wrong?" She heard one of them say faintly but ignored it and continued looking around the room for an escape or for something that would explain this queer situation.

Sansa heard a small yelping barking noise and turned, only to be startled as a direwolf pup jumped onto her lap. It began licking her face happily as she held it gently, immediately a sense of recognition washed over it. She laughed in joy. _It was Lady!_

"Sansa, what is it? What has happened?" She heard a strong northern voice say, interrupting her from her reunion with her wolf. She recognised that voice...

"Father?!" Sansa gasped and head turned sharply to look up in awe at Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Protector of the North and her dear, dear father standing beside her bedside, brows furrowed in worry and eyes roaming around the room, Ice drawn and ready to protect her at a moments notice.

"Sansa, what is going on?" He asked her again, in a deep and mildly concerned voice.

Sansa could do nothing but stare at her father in wonder as tears streamed down her face. It was him! She was in heaven!

"Father" Sansa breathed and shot up from her bed and straight into Lord Stark's arms.

Sansa wept in relief and happiness at being in father's arms again after so long. How she wished she could see him again so many times and finally she could. She was most definitely in heaven.

"Sansa, Sansa, are you alright, what happened" She was pulled back and saw the worried face and concerned grey eyes of her father staring at her. Sansa grinned hugely at him.

"I am fine, just fine father. Everything is fine" She looked up at him with joy and couldn't keep the dazzling smile off of her face. Was the rest of her family here? In heaven also?

"Why were you screaming Sansa?" He asked looking at her oddly with furrowed brows.

"Oh" She frowned, memories rushing back to her rapidly, "Littlefinger, he..he slit my throat" She said absently with a distant look on her face and rubbed her throat in reassurance.

Sansa looked back to her father to see him giving her a strange look.

"Lord Stark..." One of the men said from behind him and she looked back, "Everything is fine here Jory, Sansa has just had a bad dream, that is all"

Sansa frowned at her father. A dream? It was certainly not a dream! She sat back down on her bed and absently pat Lady's fur as she moved onto her lap.

Her father turned back to look at her tiredly, "Get back to sleep Sansa and try to get some rest" He said kindly and moved away from her. She watched him curiously. The guards left the room and Lord Stark moved to do the same.

"Wait, Father, where am I exactly? Is everyone here?" She asked hopeful and saw more confusion enter her fathers eyes.

He wandered back to her, "You are in your bed at Winterfell, are you sure your alright Sansa? Perhaps we should have Maester Luwin look at you" He said slowly. She gasped as realisation hit her, this was her old room at Winterfell! Of course she was! Now she remembers.

Sansa was becoming more and more confused. This was heaven? It made sense, she had longed for her home many times and was finally back.

As Sansa was musing she noticed Maester Luwin enter her chambers followed by...

"Mother!" Sansa gasped and gave her the same treatment she did her father. She wept tears of joy as she clung to her mother's middle and felt her mother hold her back. She took deep breathes and smelled the usual scent of lavenders and salt she had missed. It was truly her.

"Sansa, what is wrong?" She heard her mother ask as she began stroking her hair softly. Her mother pulled her back and searched her face with a frown. Sansa smiled back indulgently and allowed her mother to lead her back to her bed.

Lady Catelyn sat down beside her and Sansa saw the odd looks she was receiving from everyone in the room. Why were they so confused and acting peculiar, was she the only one happy to be reunited? It had been years.

"Lady Sansa, is everything alright? How are you feeling?" Maester Luwin asked. She looked at him as he pressed his palm flat against her forehead, checking for a fever.

"I am fine, why is everyone acting so strangely?" She asked, a little uncertain at the behaviour of the people in the room.

"What happened Lord Stark?" The maester asked. She was ignored.

"She awoke screaming from a bad dream and has been behaving strangely since" Her father said looking her over again.

"I see. Can you describe your dream to me Lady Sansa?" Luwin asked of her.

Sansa sighed but complied, "I was ambushed in my chambers at Kings Landing by Littlefinger. Jon, Dany and my husband came to my aid but it was too late, he already had the dagger at my throat. He killed me and that is when I woke up here" She relayed to them patiently.

"Sansa, do not call him that. It is Lord Baelish, not Littlefinger. Ladies do not use such language" She scolded automatically but looked troubled.

They all looked at each other for several moments until Luwin broke the silence.

"It appears there is nothing wrong with her, My lord. Lady Sansa, please keep me informed if you have any more of these dreams"

Lord Stark nod his head absently and sighed heavily.

"Well, we should all be getting back to bed. Good night Sansa" He then leant forward to give her a little kiss on her forehead. She smiled at him lovingly, feeling cherished and protected.

Her mother did the same before bidding her a goodnight.

Sansa was rather confused by the entire situation but went along with it and went to bed cuddled next to Lady and fell promptly asleep; she was after all quite tired.

* * *

Sansa woke the next morning to the curtains of her room opening, spilling the entire chamber in wretched light. She groaned and rolled over to the blissful darkness.

"Get up Lady Sansa" She heard a voice say. She did not recognise the voice and looked up to see who it was. It was not her usual maid and seeing the empty bed beside her she recalled the last night. Was this heaven? Her dead family was there but it all seemed a little... strange to her.

She rose from the bed and the maids became their usual tending. Lady jumped down and ran from the room, most likely looking for food.

Sansa was placed in a tub and as she looked down upon her body she gasped in horror. She did not see her usual breasts and patch of curls but... she... she had a child's body! She froze and critically examined her body in detail for the changes. She most definetly had the body of a child. What was going on? Suspicious but not wanting to let on to the other women in the room she said not a thing. She allowed herself to be washed and dressed in children's clothing. Her face was grim as she looked herself in the mirror, she was... not even ten and two years old. The same age as when she was last in Winterfell...

"My lady, come, it is time to break your fast" A maid called out to her and she followed dutifully, keeping quiet and keenly observing everything around her.

She made her way along the familiar halls of Winterfell and felt fondness and sense of nostalgia well inside of her. She was led to the hall where everyone in Winterfell was breaking their fast. Her mother and father of course at the head of the room.

She eyed the room curiously. There was the old stable boys, maids and various staff seated at the tables. She saw her sister Arya seated beside Jon, Robb and Theon Greyjoy. She scowled at the last. Turncloack. This could not be heaven for if it was why would Robb be sitting beside that traitor.

She observed Jon from where she was and was startled by his appearance... he... he was just a boy. He looked so very young with a youthful face unmarked by the harshness of war and winter. He looked innocent. Jon looked up from his plate to see her stare and she smiled warmly at him. His eyed widened before he waved awkwardly back. She smiled in amusement. She continued looking around the room and saw Bran and Rickon seated beside her parents. Her heart throbbed at seeing her younger brothers as children. How she missed them.

The direwolf pups sat dutifully beside their owners and Lady nudged Sansa's leg, reminding her to move. She saw her old childhood friend Jeyne Poole and decided that sitting beside her was the safest option.

She walked across the room and sat beside Jeyne.

The girl instantly turned to her with a smile, "Oh my gosh, only a day left! Can you believe it! Only a day until the royal entourage arrives! I can't wait. I wonder what Prince Joffery will look like" She gushed as soon as Sansa took her seat.

She gave her old friend a curious look, "Excuse me?" She asked.

Jeyne simply rolled her eyes and said, "Gosh Sansa you haven't forgotten have you? It's all we have been talking about for the past week! The royal family are coming. Here! To visit Winterfell! We will get to meet the prince!" She said in such excitement. Sansa frowned, her mind racing.

She ate her food and did not say much as she was preoccupied with her thoughts. Not that her friend noticed, she was too excited by the upcoming visit by the royal family. Sansa tried hard not to groan. Joffery was coming. Oh if Jeyne knew what a little monster he was then she wouldn't be so eager for his to visit.

Sansa continued on the day warily and with caution. Things were going just how they did back when she lived at Winterfell. Did she somehow travel back in time? No. That was ridiculous.

Sansa sat and did her needlework under the watchful eye of Septa Mordane surrounded by the other ladies. Arya ran into the room panting and sweating.

"Sorry I'm late" She panted and plopped down onto the only available seat.

The septa frowned, "Ladies do not run and cannot be late" She scolded. Arya ducked her head in embarrassment as they rest of the girls tittered at her humiliation. Sansa frowned at this.

"Septa, actually, Ladies are never late. Everyone else is simply early" She smiled at Arya in comfort. Septa Mordane gave her a quizzical look. As they continued their lesson she heard one of the girls – she couldn't recall her name – cough and say 'horseface' under her breath.

Sansa was getting pretty angry at the blatant disrespect and pain nastiness shown towards her little sister. She also remembered with shame that she too used to join in on the mocking. How cruel was she? Well, she had a lot to atone for.

Sansa looked directly at the culprit and narrowed her eyes, "Excuse me? What did you say?" She said expectantly.

The girl looked wide eyed at her, "Uh n-nothing Sansa" She said looking panic stricken. Sansa rose an eyebrow expectantly,

"It is Lady Sansa to you and I am certain you said something? What was that? Did you just insult my little sister?" Sansa said in a voice filled with Stark Steel.

The girl looked about to piss herself Sansa thought with amusement and tried to keep her stern face.

"N-no Lady Sansa, I would never" She replied piteously.

Sansa nodded, "Good, for it would be rather hypocritical for you to insult my sister on her looks with your bucked teeth and large ears, you bare the resemblance of the backside of a donkey" She said in a completely serious voice. The girl flushed in embarrassment and tears filled her eyes. Sansa felt a pang of sympathy until she heard her sister burst into laughter.

"Lady Sansa!" Septa Mordane breathed in a scandalised tone.

"Oh shit" She muttered and then heard Septa gasp in horror and hold her head dramatically. Arya laughed even harder.

 _'Oh shit'_ , She thought wearily.

* * *

She sat in her father's solar with her mother seated beside him looking at her in worry. She sat across from them beside the Septa who was telling them of the 'incident' that occurred earlier that day.

"Thank you Septa, if you would please allow me to speak to my daughter in private" Lord Stark said sounding displeased.

The Septa curtsied before leaving the room.

Immediately Sansa's mother spoke, "Where on earth did you hear such language?" She asked in exasperation.

Sansa sighed and steeled herself for what she was to do. She had thought about it a lot and knew it was the only way.

"Mother, Father I have something to tell you and I need you to hear me out and try to understand" She said in a solemn tone. Lord Stark sat up straighter and looked at her in worry.

"I'm a warg" She said in a grave voice, lying through her teeth. This was the only way. She had accepted the reality of her situation. Stranger things have happened, like the dead rising again only to be destroyed by her brother riding a dragon. Yes, stranger things.

"I am also a greenseer, I have been having these dreams... dreams of the future that are... well horrific" Sansa frowns as she remembers how the future will turn out.

At the look her parents were giving her she goes on to explain hastily.

"Wait, I know that I sound mad but please listen to me. This visit is going to change things for the worse. I know that King Robert is coming to offer you, father, the position of Hand of the king and you are intending to refuse. There will be a letter you will receive from Lady Lysa, that will sway your mind" Sansa explains.

Her parents are still looking at her in confusion and skepticism.

"You do not have to believe me now but please listen. This letter will say that Jon Aryan was poisoned" She said and her father looked at her more intently and she relaxed a little at the gesture to show he was listening.

"The letter will also say that she was poisoned by the Lannisters. This is not true" Sansas mouth forms a grim line as she remembers the extent Littlefinger went to destroy her family.

"This is ridiculous Sansa" Her mother scolds. Sansa looks to see the look her father is giving her and see's his assessing and measuring gaze.

"No mother, it is not" She replies sadly. Sansa stands and looks at her parents seriously.

"Mother, Father, please. We can discuss this further when you receive the letter and I will tell you then who murdered Jon Aryan" She said and then swiftly left the room. There was nothing more she could do. Hopefully, her parents will come to have more faith in her in time.

As Sansa made her way back to her chambers her heart pounded in her chest and she felt weak. She worried that she was making the right decision. She wanted to tell her parents the truth, she truly did but what then? If she told them the truth that Joffery was not Roberts son then war would surely start against the Lannisters and she would never be able to marry Tyrion. Additionally, she knew that although her father had good intentions that war right now would be disastrous. There would be plenty war in the future with the Whitewalkers where all of Westeros would need to work together and preferably the whole North would not be turned to ruin.

Her father was too honourable. He was too good. Sansa knew this. She admired him, looked up to him and he was her hero but he was not cut out to play the game. Well, she would play it for him. She would not let him soil himself by playing. Her hands were already dirty and stained with blood, it was no matter to her. She would do this for them. For everyone. After all, she was a master player under Littlefingers tutelage. Not to mention she knew how the future would play out. That was certainly in her advantage.

And this time, her family would come out at top, Sansa thought as she entered her chambers.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa rose earlier than usual the next day. Her handmaidens hadn't even arrived to wake her. She climbed from her bed and walked slowly, feet padding on the cold ground to the window and watched the sun rise in Winterfell. She sighed heavily. This was the day that everything would change. The Kings visit to Winterfell. If she didn't change things soon enough, then her, Arya and father would ride south and she would never see her family aside Jon again. Sansa frowned when she thought of her brother or in actuality cousin. He would be going to join the Nights Watch soon she remembered. This troubled Sansa. Winter was indeed coming but would not be here for another few years if she recalled correctly. There was still plenty of time to prepare for the war of the Whitewalkers. What troubled Sansa's mind was wondering if she should prevent Jon from joining the Nights Watch. She knew that it was his destiny in part to defeat the Others so him joining the Watch was necessary but... perhaps, she could delay his departure...

Mind resolved, she quickly dressed and prepared to find her brother.

After Sansa was presentable she opened her chamber door slowly and made her way out onto the cold halls of Winterfell. Lady made a whining noise from her bed and looked at her curiously.

"I'll be back Lady" She whispered then disappeared through the door.

Finding Jon's room was no easy task, she realised that she had no idea where his rooms where but lucky she remembered Jon mentioning to her over dinner with Dany and Tyrion that his rooms were located beside the stables. Luckily Sansa saw Ghost as a pup seated outside a chamber door and knew it to be Jons. She smiled in relief and gave Ghost a thankful pat on the head.

"Good boy" She muttered.

Sansa readied herself and knocked swiftly on the door three times. She waited patiently for several moments until the door opened to reveal a dishevelled and confused youthful looking Jon. Sansa smiled in fondness, he looked so young and innocent. It was painful for her to think of him going to join the Nights Watch at such a tender young age.

"Sansa" He mumbled sleepily and looked at her in disbelief.

She smiled at him, "May I come in?" She asked politely.

"Oh-Uh, Yes of course" He said in obvious surprise but admitted her entrance into his room all the same. Sansa saw Ghost pad in behind her where he promptly lay down beside the fireplace, though it was currently unlit.

Jon stood awkwardly in nothing but a pair of breeches and rubbed the back of his head. He cleared his throat, "Is everything alright Sansa? What can I do for you?" He said in an obviously uncomfortable tone.

Sansa sighed and made her way over to his dishevelled bed and plopped down, "Calm down Jon, Gods, I just want to talk" She muttered and motioned for him to sit on the bed beside her.

Jon sat down across from her warily and continued to watch her curiously. She had never come to find him, let alone instigated a private conversation. No wonder he looked so unsure.

"Jon I'm here to talk about you joining the Nights Watch" She said seriously and regarded him thoughtfully.

Jon blinked and looked at her strangely, "I didn't think you cared about me going to the wall" He muttered then bowed his head to stare at the floor. Sansa felt guilt shoot through her at this and she bit her lip.

"Jon, your my _brother_ , of course, I care" She huffed and looked at him in exasperation. Sansa emphasised the word 'brother' to show that she cared for him.

The young supposed Stark bastard looked up swiftly, appearing startled. He watched her in surprise.

Sansa shifted uncomfortably, "Jon, look, I am so sorry for how I've treated you throughout the years. I've been stupid and I was so desperate for my mother's approval I simply treated you the way she did which is wrong. So so wrong" She sighed in guilt and felt her throat close up in shame.

Jon continued watching her in silence though his grey eyes did widen. He spoke quietly, "Sansa, there is nothing to apologise for. I am not Ned Stark's trueborn son and you can't blame Lady Catelyn for..." He began dutifully before Sansa cut him off.

"-No. Stop right there. Yes, I can blame her for she is behaving like a jealous child. Jon, she has no reason for this animosity for you. You are a part of this family just as much as she and I love you, we all do. None of us thinks any less of you because you are not Lady Catelyn son. You have just as much Stark blood as we and wolves stick together" She said in a strong authoritative voice, not allowing him to entertain this ridiculous notion. How did she not see how much this hurt Jon the first time around? Was she blind?

Jon's face was stoic but his large eyes sparkled in surprise, happiness and desperation. Sansa's heart reached out to seeing him so vulnerable. He was usually always the strong one. The one who helped her and guide her. Now it was her turn to be there for him.

"My mothers behaviour has nothing to do with you and has everything to do with her. She shunned a motherless child because it didn't fit into her idea's and beliefs of a perfect marriage. That is foolish. Just because her life is not a song she resents you for this! Foolish woman" She shakes her head in exasperation at her mother and see's her brother now openly gaping at her.

She giggled,"I know during the Kings visit you won't be able to sit with us like a family and I am truly sorry for that. It is wrong but just know that we all love you. It doesn't matter if you don't share as much of the same blood. We love you all the same" Sansa said in a soft voice and saw Jon's eyes fill with tears.

"I know during the Kings visit you won't be able to sit with us like a family and I am truly sorry for that. It is wrong but just know that we all love you. It doesn't matter if you don't share as much of the same blood. We love you all the same" Sansa said in a soft voice and saw Jon's eyes fill with tears.

Sansa couldn't help it and reached forward to embrace her brother in a tight hug. She had no idea how insecure her brother was. She wanted to tell him everything but knew it wasn't possible. His identity as a 'bastard' and being a Snow is what helped to toughen him and made him the man she knew. He would have his share of suffering but as long as he knew she would always be there to support him there was nothing that could be done.

"I don't understand Sansa, what has changed? Just a few days ago you only acknowledged me as your half brother" He said as he pulled back but he definitely looked lighter.

Sansa bit her lip but explained as best as she could, "Jon, it is hard to explain and I promise I will tell you everything one day but right now I can't tell you too much lest it affects the future. I know what is going to happen. Things are going to change and not for the better. Blood, so much blood. The blood of Father first then Robb and my mother, Bran and Rickon next and Arya... she just disappears" She whispers and closes her eyes in sorrow.

She looked up to see worry and pain on Jons face, "How do you know this? When is this going to happen? Can we stop it?" Jon asked her and she felt her heart squeeze in affection, he believed her instantly.

"I can't say how I know this; just trust me. This will all happen over the course of the next year. I know that in the future we will be great friends and true siblings, we will be very close and I cannot wait for that. Just know I will be doing everything in my power to stop the deaths from happening but let us not talk about that. The reason I came here was to beg of you not to join the Nights Watch so soon" Sansa begged and looked desperately into his eyes for the answer.

She saw his reply before he could respond.

"No, I am sorry Sansa but this is my calling. This is my opportunity to make something of myself and gain my honour. I cannot stay at Winterfell forever and be a burden. I must find my own way" Jon said in a voice sounding so much like fathers she could only nod and swallow back the tears.

"I see. Promise me you will write me as often as you can. I shall write to you every second day" Sansa swore and then engulfs her brother in another hug.

Sansa doesn't know it but this talk has had a profound effect on Jon. He feels... accepted. He feels belonging, something which a bastard boy is not supposed to have. He does not have a home, titles or lands to give but he has his family. His pack. Jon swears right then are there to always protect Sansa and do right for her. It is the least he could do, she has given him the impossible: a home.

Sansa and Jon pull away from their hug when they hear crashing and commotion going on outside. They are surprised when the door is violently thrown open and Jon jumps to his feet automatically.

Sansa is surprised to see Robb standing in the doorway, panting and looking at Jon in worry and fear.

"Jon" He pants heavily, "It's Sansa... she's... she's missing... we need to-" Robb says in such a desperate tone that her heart clenches.

She stands from the bed to draw his attention, "Calm yourself, Robb. I am here, we were simply having a chat and must have lost track of time" Sansa says in a soft voice.

Robb's face sinks in relief and he moves forward to embrace his little sister. Sansa relishes in the contact and holds back her tears. She had missed Robb so much. Such an ill fate will befall him if she does not stop it. She will do everything she can to protect her family.

Robb pulls back and scowls at her, "We were all very worried sister. The whole castle is looking for you, come, mother is worried sick" he says in an exasperated tone. Robb takes her arm and begins pulling her from Jons room.

Jon swiftly pulls on a shirt and some boots before following the pair.

They come upon a guard not two metres from Jon's door scrambling around; looking for her no doubt.

"Lady Sansa" He sighs in relief. Sansa looks upon the man, his plain face with straw coloured hair but distinct northern features and wishes she remembered him.

"She is fine, simply talking with Jon, go inform my father she is safe" Robb says in an authoritative tone.

Sansa watches her elder brother in pride. He will make a wonderful Lord of Winterfell some day and it is her duty to make sure he lives to be. The trio make their way through the castle halls straight to the great hall where everyone will be gathered no doubt.

They were correct in their assumption.

As they entered the room, Sansa saw her fathers face sink in relief and Sansa's mother hold her hand to her mouth and let out loud sobs.

Lady Catelyn made her way over to her eldest daughter swiftly and engulfed her into a tight hug. Sansa held her mother who continued to sob. It was odd for Sansa, she has always regarded her mother as the epitome of a strong woman and perfect Lady but now seeing her through mature eyes.. it was disconcerting.

"Oh Sansa dear, where were you?" Lady Catelyn asked, finally calmed down.

Sansa peered around her mother to see Robb join her father and speak to him whilst Jon remained at her side.

Lord Stark was calling off his men and speaking with Robb, she could not make out what they were saying from here.

"Calm yourself mother, I am fine. I simply woke early and wanted to have a talk to Jon before the Kings arrival" She says and smiles at her brother fondly.

Sansa frowned at the ashamed and almost scared look Jon had on his face. His shoulders were stiff and unyielding as if preparing for an assault, she had never seen such from him. It was difficult to notice, as he looked upon the floor but she knew her brother well and could almost smell his wariness from here. She also knew when someone was desperately trying to hide fear.

Sansa watched as Lady Catelyn face morphed into shock and then turn cold. She could not believe it when her _mother_ levelled Jon with a glare. Sansa sucked in a breath in shock and ire. She looked swiftly around the hall and saw that aside from Father, Robb and Jon the room had been cleared.

She would need to stop this, "Excuse me mother, _I_ am the one who sought Jon out, not the other way around. If you are going to direct your anger at someone then let it be me. Jon has done nothing" Sansa stated in a strong voice she often used as Lady of Casterly Rock and Mistress of laws.

Sansa gave her brother Jon another soft smile before taking his hand in a display of union and support.

The room fell deathly silent.

Jon looked up at Sansa and his grey eyes glittered with so much gratitude. She felt her heart swell.

Lady Catelyn simply frowned, "Sansa this does not concern you, I would like to speak to Jon. Go to your rooms and prepare yourself for breakfast, it will be served very shortly" She commanded in a stern tone.

But Sansa would not back down, "It does concern me if it concerns my brother, I am curious as to why you would like to speak to him privately when all of the blame for the situation lies upon my shoulders. He is the innocent in this and I will not leave him to take my punishment" She says in a tone that rang finality, it was a voice that she had picked up from listening to Daenerys pass judgement upon others and was certainly effective.

Her mother looked at her in completely shock and dare I say it... anger?

None the matter, she would never abandon her brother and Lady Catelyn was a sore spot for him, a weakness, just like Joffery was for her. She would help him face his own foe even it was her mother. It saddened Sansa's heart greatly that the emotional scars that her mother inflicted upon her brother were almost as deep as some of her own.

She would have to change that.

It was obvious Lady Catelyn was about to retort when her father spoke up.

"Enough of this. Sansa, Jon, Robb all of you prepare to break your fast" Her father said.

Sansa simply smiled at her father and squeezed Jon's hand one more time before exiting the room.

* * *

Breaking their fast was a loud affair with the excitement of the royal visit buzzing in the air. None of this mattered to Sansa though, she was worried, worried for there was so much to happen on this journey that she would have to prevent.

Ser Jaime pushing Bran from a tower and crippling him.

Father accepting the position of Hand of the King.

Her betrothal to Joffrey Baratheon. Or Waters in reality.

The letter orchestrated by LittleFinger.

Her first meeting with Tyrion.

Nervous butterflies erupted in her stomach as she attempted to swallow the sausage in her mouth. She took a sip of water. Sansa was nought but a child! There is no way she could impress him or made him fall in love with her yet. She would have to wait. It pained her but she knew it was necessary. He would not be attracted to her until she was a woman and she only had a few months to go until she flowered and a few more until her womanly curves came in. She could wait.

"Is it true Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard will be travelling with the royal party?" Sansa is pulled from her musings by her brother Bran's voice. She felt a pang of sorrow, she had forgotten Bran had once looked up to Ser Jaime before he crippled him.

Sansa watches the scene unfold curiously.

Her father frowns and looks at Bran with a disproving look. Bran does not notice and simply smiles and looks upon father for an answer.

"Yes he is son" He answers.

"Oh, can I watch him spar?" He asks in an enthusiastic voice. Sansa smiles kindly at his innocence.

Her father scowls this time, "You may, but perhaps you would like to watch and learn from someone else, perhaps Jory or Ser Barristen?" He father suggests.

Bran huffs impatiently, "I have already seen Jory spar and Ser Barristen is old. Ser Jaime is supposed to be the fiercest night in the south, please father" Bran pleads adorably.

Sansa watches as her father takes on that, 'this is a problem' look that she recalls from Jon's face. She marvels at how similar they look once he has grown.

Father drops his cutlery to the table and looks at Bran intently, he then uses his 'lord' voice, "Bran if you are looking for a knight to look up to then Ser Jaime is not ideal. He is a reasonable fighter, yes, but that is not all there is to being a knight. There is honour and that is something the Kingslayer has no knowledge of" Her father explained.

"Perhaps, Aemon the Dragonknight or Ser Arthur Dayne, sword of the morning" Her mother suggested, daintily nibbling on some bread.

A chuckle escaped Sansa's lips and a wry smile graced her face, "Ser Arthur Dayne? Was it not him who knighted Ser Jaime Lannister whom you believe does not deserve the title? Besides, It seems rather foolish for Bran to look up to a man that father killed." Sansa said with amusement.

There was a collective gasp and she heard Arya and Robb laugh whilst Jon looked at her curiously. Her father looked upon her with disapproval and her mother looked beyond scandalised and shocked.

"How do you know that?" Her father questioned with a frown.

She simply shrugged and placed some more fruit upon her plate, "Does not everybody know? I thought it was common knowledge. You, along with Howland Reed slew him at the Tower of Joy. Ironic name, that" Sansa commented idly.

Her family looked at her as if she had just transformed into a direwolf and shat on the table. They were probably not used to her dry sense of humour that she had somewhat picked up from Tyrion and her experiences in life.

She laughed at their expressions. She distinctly saw her fathers lips twitch and Lady Catlyn clench her fist.

"My Lord, The king will be arriving in a few hours. We must prepare" Someone interrupted their meal.

"Very well, begin preparations" Her father said and then rose from his seat. Everyone else followed suit. Sansa made her way towards her chambers to prepare for the royal visit, how _wonderful_ this was going to be.

She had almost made it to her chambers when she heard a voice call,

"Sansa, wait up"

She turned to see Jon running up to her, a worried look upon his face.

She looked at him in concern, "What is it Jon, what is wrong?" She queried and looked him up and down anxiously.

He looked guilty as he shuffled his feet, "Sansa... I... I apolgoise, Father questioned me about what we discussed this morning and I... I told him everything" Jon expelled in one breath and she inhaled in surprise.

She moved forward to cup his face, "Is it alright Jon, I am not mad. I would of preferred if you had not told him but there is nothing to be done now. I had not told you to keep this a secret. It is alright" She drew him in for a hug and felt him sag with relief against her.

She continued to hold him and stroked his back gently to calm him.

When she pulled back, curiously, Jon looked sheepish and a little uncomfortable. She tired not to smile. He was still a boy.

"Do not be shy Jon, I am here for you. Whenever you wish, even if it is only for a hug. I will always be here for you" Sansa said honestly, looking him directly in the eye. She watched as Jon nodded seriously and look choked up.

Sansa gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before leaving to prepare herself for the royal arrival.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey, here is a nice long chapter for you all, I hope you enjoy. I haven't yet decided on whether to keep Sansa paired with Tyrion. Should i change it to Sandor, Jaime, Jon or even Dany? I don't know. Let me know your thoughts on this. Now, on with the chapter!**

* * *

She had prepared herself and sent her maids on her way. They looked at her in shock and attempted to stay but she did not allow it stating that she was their lady and followed her orders. They left, no doubt to report to her mother. No matter, as long as she could dress herself. She donned a beautiful grey but painfully childish gown. She looked upon her image and could not believe how youthful she appeared. Not to mention how adorable, she had to admit this. It was no wonder she was spoiled the way she had been. She scowled at this, remembering how ill prepared this made her for the hardships ahead. The Stark words were _'Winter is Coming'_ So why was she not prepared for it?

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter" She called.

Sansa expected to see a maid checking up upon her or even Septa Mordane there to scold her. To her surprise it was her father who entered her chambers.

She hid her surprise and gestured to the chairs seated by the hearth.

He slumped down upon the chair wearily. Sansa joined her father and wished she had some wine to give him. Her chambers at Kings Landing were always stocked readily with wine, but, then again her husband had a penchant for it.

"I... Is what you told Jon true?" Her father asked, still staring into the flames.

Sansa sighs wearily and wished she had some wine for herself.

"Yes it is father. Before winter will arrive house Stark will be shamed, broken and scattered throughout the kingdom. I will be the last wolf still living and somewhat well" Sansa says with a world of grief lining her tone.

Her father takes note of this and looks at her curiously.

"By the gods, you truly are a greenser. What will come? What will cause this?" Her father asks with a stern face.

Sansa smiles at him slightly, "War, war of course. Only war can cause such devastation. Only this war is not justified. Both sides believe they are but both are misguided and manipulated. A war will be orchestrated for the wolves and lions to weaken them to allow other creatures to rise in power" Sansa states, not mentioning the return of the others just yet. That would be too much for now.

Her father nods grimly and admits, "My distaste for the Lannisters is well known, it would be unsurprising if war were to erupt. Who forces the hand of the West and North?" Her father asks with wariness in his eyes. Sansa is glad to see him taking her so seriously.

"Littlefinger"

The word echoes throughout the room. Sansa shivers.

Her father looks troubled, "I do not understand, he is an ally, he was your mothers childhood friend once upon a time. What feud does he have with us? What could he possibly gain? Are you certain it is Lord Baelish?"

Her fathers doubt and defence of the wretched worms character angers her.

"Yes I am certain" She hisses sharply. Her father is visibly startled.

"He is no ally to the Starks. He wants revenge for taking away what he believes to be his love. You will put your trust in him and he will betray you, your head will roll on the steps of balor for the whole of the capital to see. Falsely accused to treason because of that monster"

Her father watches her intently whilst she fumes,

"You ask what he could gain? How foolish are you father? you are one in a thousand man who does not seek power or personal gain. Lord Baelish is no better than the rest but has the brains, wealth and connections to achieve the unachievable. He will rip this house apart for power and mothers favour. When she is killed in the crossfire he will turn his attentions onto me. Is that what you want?" Sansa's voice is raised and Lord Starks eyes widen as the truth is revealed.

"You believe so strongly in his character? He murdered Jon Arryn" Sansa states in an strong, steely voice.

She continues relentlessly, "He is the little bird that whispered into Lysa Arryns ear to poison her husband so that they could be together. He manipulated her, telling her that it was to protect her son as Lord Arryn had planned of fostering him at Dragonstone. A mixture of paranoia, overprotective mothering and misguided obsession was her motivation. He then forced her hand to send a letter to mother telling it to be the Lannister's to fan the flames of mistrust between our houses"

Her father, looks deeply troubled and saddened by what she is saying. As he should be.

"I do not understand. Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn, together?" He looks so puzzled that Sansa helps him out.

"Yes. Aunt Lysa has always been in love with him but his attentions were always focused on mother. Did you ever wonder why the youngest daughter of the Lord of the Riverlands was wed to an old man thrice married and past his prime? It is surely a step down from her station and Lord Tully should have been able to make a better match. However, There was a feast where mother refused Lord Baelish's attentions. He got drunk and looked elsewhere..."

Her fathers jaw dropped as realisation hit him.

"Yes. He dishonoured her. She was given to the Warden of the East and he looked the other way at her sullied state so to have a young and hopefully fertile wife"

Lord Stark dropped his head into his hands.

Sansa felt guilt bubbling inside her.

"Father... I... I apologize, I should not have been so insensitive" She says in a sorrow filled tone.

He looks up and his grey eyes are warm but filled with pain.

"No, it is I who should apologize, my foolishness causes the downfall of my house and family. My children are left to fend from themselves. I will not allow this to happen" He then stands and looked determined.

Sansa knows this will be her only opportunity to speak of this before the Kings arrival.

"Father... King Robert will make an offer of marriage between me and Prince Joffery" Sansa says hesitantly.

"Refuse him" She says with Stark ice in her voice.

He looks at her yet again in surprise, "The princes arrival is all you have been speaking of this past sennight. I believed a proposal between the two of who is what you wanted?" He asked.

Sansa looked at him seriously, "Joffery Baratheon is a monster father. He is, he will get his kingsguard to beat me and strip me in court. My only aid will come from the Hound, a dwarf and the Kingslayer..." She pauses as her father flinches deeply, obviously affected by her words.

"He will be known as the second Mad King" She finishes in a whisper.

Lord Stark then lost his composure and strode forward to engulf his daughter in a hug.

Sansa tried to hold back tears again but could not help the body wrenching sobs that broke her body.

Her father held her protectively and she felt a safety she had not known since childhood. The safety that knowing you are invincible in your fathers arms.

"I will not accept the proposal. I am... so so sorry Sansa for all the pain that will be caused. I will refuse the position as hand. I can see how burdened you are with the events you have foretold and how it was hardened you. I will make this right, do not worry" He pulled back and Sansa saw something which allowed relief to sink into her bones. His face was set in the serious Stark determination she knew so well. She had her fathers aid.

"Come, we must go to greet the king and his entourage" Her father said. She nodded her head and retrieved her fur clock to protect against the chill.

The Warden of the North and his eldest daughter made their way through the grand halls of Winterfell castle. The chill was creeping into the castle with the beginnings of Autumn.

They entered the courtyard to see everyone standing at attention for the kings arrival.

Lady Catlyn shot her and her father an scolding look before looking towards the gates, holding herself tall and proud; like the true Lady of Winterfell.

Her father, of course, took the head position in order to greet their guests.

Sansa stood beside her brother Robb and sister Arya. She looked for Jon and saw him standing off to the side. She shot him a small sympathetic smile when his eyes met hers. He nodded back in acknowledgement.

The sounds of men approaching and hooves prattling against the ground was steadily growing louder.

Sansa stood tall and kept her face polite but impassive as the first men entered the gates.

She could recognise them all instantly.

There was His Grace - Robert Baratheon - he was easily identified as he was the only one with such a large girth and long scruffy beard.

Her face darkened as she recognised Ser Meryn and Ser Boros. Sansa remembered feeling a perverse kind of glee watching them burn from dragon fire. Seeing them now made rage rise in her belly and if she were a dragon she would be repeating history.

Then there was the carriage and from it exited Queen Cersei or the 'whore queen' as she is affectionately known in the future and her children. Sweet Tommen, kind Myrcella and... Joffrey. She was surprised at the last. He hadn't even rode on a horse but inside the carriage with the women and children. She held back a snort at this and her desire to set lady upon him. He saw her looking and his eyes drew deliberately up and down her form slowly before sending a slimy grin her way. She eyed at him with boredom then averted her gaze to show her disinterest.

Next, there was Jaime Lannister in all his gilded glory. Clad in his Kingsguard cloak and golden armour he looked different from how she remembered him. He was not yet haggard by war and held a distinctly cocky and arrogant atmosphere. Sansa frowned, this was not the man she once knew. After the war he turned his ways with Brienne's aid. This was him before he had found his honour. Admittedly, she did not know him well during this time or after. He had been banished from the seven kingdoms by Queen Daenerys. The only reason Dany had spared him was for Tyrions sake. Her husband often denied any kinship between his brother and himself, stating those bridges were burned when he learned about his first wife: Tysha.

Sansa pondered this and considered what she would do with this.

Finally, there was Sandor Clegane or the Hound as he is known as. She felt a pang of fondness for him. He had protected her and shook some sense into her when she was merely a Lannister prisoner. She wondered how she could aid him.

The king greeted her father and both of them left to visit the crypts in order to pay respects to her Aunt and Jon's mother.

Then she saw someone who made her heart skip a beat. There he was... her husband. Or future husband as it stood. Tyrion. He sat atop a ridiculously large horse, making his frame appear even smaller. Sansa felt a pang of yearning looking at him. He looked so young, white hair hanging carelessly atop his head and a wry grin on his face. She longed to run her hand through the soft strands. He was conversing with his brother as Ser Jaime dismounted. Sansa was startled by his appearance, she was accustomed to looking the scar where his nose previously stood and his multicoloured beard. But this... he looked so _handsome_. So youthful and so full of life; unburdened by harshness of war and winter. He was magnificent. Every bit the fierce lion his brother was. He was _hers,_ her little lion. She bit her lip as she felt a jolt of desire run through her. She missed him. His jesting, his touch but most of all, she missed seeing the familiar sparkle of love in his eyes.

She felt eyes upon her and noticed Ser Jaime looking towards her whilst smirking. She felt embarrassment wash through her as she was caught staring at Tyrion.

Sansa simply raised an eyebrow at him defiantly before turning tail and walking away.

She wanted to approach her Tyrion, she hungered to, but did not want him to see her in her current child state. She wanted him to look at her with desire, respect and love. It would not be wise for him to know her as a child as it could skew his future perceptions of her by knowing her a child.

He looked so happy and at ease conversing with his brother. She knew how much he used to adore and look up to him. Sansa though about this, how his relationship with his brother affected him and how she should handle the situation.

What was the right thing to do here...

* * *

Sansa fussed. Sansa fretted. She could not find the right gown to wear for the feast. She will see _Tyrion_ there. He will be able to look upon her properly and she had _nothing to wear!_ Ugh! How should she handle this? She wanted him to fall in love with her at first sight but she is a mere child... beside Tyrion does not believe in childish notions such as that. What would give the best impression...

She cursed silently as she continued riffled through her gowns.

In the end Sansa spent two hours stitching and altering a dress so that it looked more mature but maintained an elegant and tasteful appeal. She had done an excellent job.

Her brightened spirits, however, were crushed when she recalled that she would be accompanied into the great hall with Joffery. She felt bile and cold fury fill her stomach.

There was nothing to be done at the moment. She still had the protection of her family and the might of Winterfell behind her. He would not harm her. Yet.

She thought about this as she made her way through the halls. Sansa had unfortunately left Lady behind and reluctantly took her place at the entrance of the great hall waiting for her escort.

She steeled her nerves and prepared herself for his arrival.

"Lady Sansa, it is a pleasure to meet you" She heard a voice which she prayed never to hear again. Joffery.

Sansa turned and saw his plump worm lips lift in what was meant to be a charming manner. His hair was long and curled. She grudgingly admitted that it was beautiful but too much like her mothers. And too feminine. She marvelled at how she ever found him attractive. He looked like a little girl.

"Prince Joffery" She replied indifferently and gave him a polite curtsey. From the corner of her eye she saw the Hound looming behind him. She looked at him curiously.

He simply glared back and his face was every bit as ugly as she remembered it to be. But Sansa marvelled that it didn't quite have the same effect as it did on her the first time round. His skin looked leathery and twisted in a painful manner. She was curious if his scar troubled him and wanted to know how it would feel in the palm of her hand. The second thing she noticed was his huge frame, it was heavily muscled and absolutely intimidating. He towered over Joffery and looked like the beast he was, he made the Prince look even more like a little girl, if such a think were possible.

Sandor caught her look and scowled at her harshly but his grey eyes held obvious confusion and frustration, no doubt at her lack of fear or response to his scars.

She nodded her head to him slightly in acknowledgement of his presence and said, "Sandor Clegane" In greeting, knowing he would detest being called Ser.

She then turned away from the pair and watched as people began entering the hall. Joffery took her arm but she did not bother looking at him as she walked and took her seat.

The meal was its usual affair. The same as the first time around with Sansa being polite and using her usual manners. Unfortunately, she was seated near the whore queen and she would often engage Sansa in conversation and serve bitter backhanded compliments in a condescending manner. She found this amusing. She was the one who fucked half of the realm whilst the other half plotted her demise. Sansa did not say much back. She could see the queens ire rise as she did not gush over her. Shallow woman.

Sansa tried her hardest but her eyes kept straying towards where Tyrion was seated. He drank, laughed, jested beside his brother and drank some more. Sansa was envious of Ser Jaime, she wanted to be the one keeping him company. She was very aware of his presence and try as she might but she felt drawn to him and it was difficult to resist that call.

"Is there something the matter with you? You do not seem very sociable" She heard the whore queens voice directed at her.

Sansas eyes flickered to the polite smile but cruel scornful green eyes that were fixed on her.

"No, I am afraid I am not feeling well. Mother, may I please be excused, as her Grace pointed out I am not much company at the moment" Sansa said, looking towards her mother.

Lady Catlyn looked displeased but allowed her to leave. Sansa would most certainly be lectured at a later date.

Sansa sighed and returned to her chambers.

Sansa felt a heavy heart as Tyrion did not even notice her. She knew she was a beautiful child but still only a child. She had perhaps been hoping that he would still... admire her perhaps.

She saw Lady seated on her bed as she entered her chambers. Lady jumped up and ran around her wanting to be let out. She grabbed a warm clock and left to take lady outside. She should not be walking without an escort but cared not.

As soon as she was outside Lady ran off to do her business and Sansa wandered around a little. She could hear the noise from the Great Hall and moved towards the merriment and drunken shouts.

She discovered a stump from a recently fallen tree and promptly sat down and made herself comfortable whilst she waited for Lady.

"What ye doin' out here all alone girl?" A voice rasped from behind her.

She gasped, jumping from the stump and spun around only to come face to face with the one and only Sandor Clegane. He stood several feet away from her, looming in the shadows. As usual, he appeared very intimating hovering by the tree line. She took a few steps backwards automatically.

"I am giving my wolf some fresh air, what are you doing?" She asked and saw him stumble a little. Drunk, very typical, just as she always recalled him being.

"Takin' a piss, whats it look like?" He grumbled and staggered toward her. She could see his face clearer the closer he became and her eyes were drawn to the harsh scars that marred his face.

The Hound slumped down onto her previous position on the stump, thus making them closer to eye level.

"What's a lady like you doin' out 'ere? Shouldn't you be at the feast like a good little girl, fawning over the Prince" He snorted and lifted a wine skin to his lips before taking a swig.

Sansa sighed wearily, many times she wished she could speak to The Hound again but now she is afforded the opportunity all she feels is weary.

She held her hand out to him and looked him expectantly in the eye. He seemed to pause for a moment before sitting taller and looking at her oddly and slight surprise.

"Well? give me some. If we are to speak of this then I will need some wine" Sansa says rather impatiently.

The Hound simply tips his head back and laughs loudly and mockingly. Sansa scowls but tries not to let her irritation show as she takes the wine skin from his chilled fingers. She lifts the skin up to her lips and drinks deeply. As she had expected, it is very strong and sour. Much like how The Hounds breath had always been back in Kings Landing.

She handed it back to him before speaking, "Now, I am not at the feast because I've grown rather weary of it. It is all a murmurs farce of false pleasantries, pompous lordings and drunken lustiness. You southerners are fond of your splendour aren't you? None of you seem to care that Winter is Coming" Sansa says with a straight voice but she forms a wry little tint to her mouth. She knows The Hound well and knows him not to be like those fools at court and cannot resist the opportunity to goad him a little. Attempting to keep the amusement out of her tone, She continues, "You all like things pretty don't you? Shielding the reality behind delusions of grandeur" Sansa could not continue seeing the astonished look upon his face.

Sansa bit her lip to hide a smile. The Hound was seemingly frozen but his eyes held... a certain understanding and respect. This warmed her. The Hound had often mocked her and made her feel like the foolish girl she was. He pointed out her flaws and although it hurt her it undoubtedly made her a stronger person. She had him to thank.

Sansa stepped forward hesitantly and slowly, approaching him with caution. He eyed her a bit like an animal unknowing if she was a threat or not. She stood right in front of him and raised her hand to cup to burnt side of his face.

She felt rather than heard his sudden sharp breath. She also noted that it was a little shaky. She looked directly into his steely grey eyes. They had often terrified her as a child but now the intensity in which he looked upon her was unparalleled to any other. They were deep, swirling with confusion, frustration and of course anger. Always anger.

"You are so angry" She murmured. Sansa look liberties by moving her hand slowly, only brushing him with the tips of her fingers across the twisted knots of charred flesh. They were a curious texture – not unpleasant – but something she had never felt before, "...Always so angry" She continued in a very quiet voice, not wanting to startle him.

She could feel his heavy gaze upon her but ignored it in favour for exploring him some more, "So angry at the world" Her eyes flickered to his for a moment, "It is understandable, cruelty is all you have known; all the world has bestowed upon you" She then keeps her eyes steady on his but continues roaming her hand, now through his hair, "Does showing cruelty to a damaged and unjust world ease your spirits? Allow you to feel a sense of justice in the universe?" Sansa mused and her eyes left his, this time in favour of looking at the stump where his ear used to lie, "Struggling to survive. You have never been afforded to luxury to simply live" Sansa said in a tone filled with endless amount of pain and sorrow for the damaged man in front of him. He had goodness inside of him. She had seen it.

Sansa then dropped her hand and stepped back, "So much pain and suffering, so much emptiness and loneliness. I do not know how you survive with such a burden" Sansa felt her throat catch and tears well to her eyes. Her life, or rather previous life, had been tough; fraught with perils, untrue knights, blood, political plots and sexual abuse but it is still incomparable to the suffering of the man standing before her. He had lost himself and his honour but she knew that deep down inside his heart was true.

Her breath caught in a sob and she wept.

She wept because she recalled how empty and alone she had felt at the Eyrie. Before Tyrion had returned. When she had nobody but that was not entirely true. She had always had somebody even if they were not with her. Somebody who loved her and wanted to protect her. The Hound had truly nobody. No one had ever cared for him. Protected him. Cherished him. Every child deserves to be safe and loved.

Sansa cleared her eyes and stopped her tears from falling. She looked up to gauge Sandor's reaction and his face was blank but eyes held a thunders storm of emotions threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation.

She mimicked her best impression of his piercing stare as she stared into his eyes, "There is good inside of you. I know it. You are no monster, I have met monsters, I known them and seen inside their black soul. You committed some heinous acts but there is honour inside of you." Sansa said strongly and then looked down as Lady nuzzled against her leg. She had not noticed her return.

Sansa bend down and lifted her pup up and gave her a cuddle. She smiled into the wolfs fur relishing in her moments with her lost companion. She would never allow anything to happen to her now. Ever.

Sansa's head shot up abruptly as The Hound jumped from his seat like his ass was on fire. She watched him as he looked at her in shock and confusion. His face was white like he has seen a ghost and suddenly he stormed off without a word to her.

She wondered at his reaction. He is most likely extremely surprised and confused by her behaviour and countenance. It is understandable, she could give him time.

Sansa was about to turn back to her rooms when she heard a voice.

"What on earth did you do to the poor dog, Lady Sansa?" Sansa spun around to see someone she wasn't expecting. Ser Jaime Lannister.

He stood clad in his usual bright armour, lightening up the darkness shrouded around her. He was like a beacon or a little ray of sunshine.

She levelled him with a curious and calculating look before answering, "Nothing at all Ser Jaime, just making polite conversation" She says back in a gracious voice.

He simply smirks and saunters over arrogantly. Sansa marvels at the difference she can see. Although she had not known him well before and after his transformation she can easily see the difference in his countenance than the last time she saw him before he was banished.

Back then, he seemed more serious, haggard, a little solemn even. Not to mention to cropt short hair, lines on his handsome face, the occasional streak of white and, of course, his missing hand.

"What would dear Lord Stark say to his innocent maiden daughter entertaining the likes of The Hound?" He says in a condescending tone.

Rage and sorrow begins bubbling within her. Rage at the audacity of this man and sorrow for the man he could be, the man she had seen. She had known many great men and although Ser Jaime was not at the top of that list he was still a better man than the Knight standing before her.

"What has happened to you Ser Jaime?" She says in a sad but exasperated tone.

He looks at her in surprise before donning that arrogant smile.

She speaks before nonsense spews from his mouth, "You are a member of the Kingsguard, surely you must have had decency at some point? You were undoubtedly a young man with ideals and beliefs; hoping to gain honour and glory but now... you are cruel and cynical to the world around you" Sansa shakes her head in dismay and returns to her little stump to take a seat.

She slouches in an unladylike manner, uncaring, afterall she is only with her future brother-in-law.

She pears up at the golden knight and see's the shock gracing his handsome features. It appears that is all she is good for these days, to shock those around her. She feels a little rueful at this.

She smiles faintly, "You are surprised? Why is that? Not many people say these things to you do they? They either praise you for your glory and hail you as the Lion of Castlerly rock but whisper Kingslayer behind your back. I see you as neither. I see an arrogant man who has honour within him but acts selfishly. Why is that?" She asks in sheer curiosity.

It was true that the Kingslayer had honour. He had kept his oath to Lady Catlyn and helped to restore House Stark, searching across a war torn Westeros to find her. Unfortunately, he was not discreet in his searching and had tipped Littlefinger off so was ultimately unsuccessful but she still appreciated the effort in her aid. What Sansa could not understand was if he had such honour why is his character like this right now? Why did it take losing his sword hand and earning some humility for him to let it out.

She heard the Knight scoff.

"You are a curious little girl aren't you? Not very Stark I might add. For your father scorned me and wanted my head for breaking my vows. Killing the mad king strips me all honour, were you unaware?... So many vows to keep in Knighthood. Protect the weak and defenceless, obey those in authority, respect the honour of a woman, to at all times speak to truth. So many vows and what to do when upholding one will break another? By what right does the wolf judge the lion? _By what right?"_

Sansa noticed that she seems to have hit a sore spot and spoke cautiously "So that is the reason? How disappointing" Sansa says and stands ready to leave. She was sorely disappointed that the reason was such a petty shallow one. She had lost all expectation of his coming redemption. She will not allow him to cripple her brother and as there is little hope for him to change, at least, not without taking his sword hand.

She stands, smooths the skirts of her dress and begins walking away when her upper arm is taken in the warm hand of the Kingslayer.

She sends him a questioning and displeased look, he speaks, "Disappointing? What would you know? You are nothing but a child. A young little Lady with her head in the clouds and head full of idea's of honour and faith. You know nothing of the real world" Ser Jaime said but Sansa noticed the look of confusion and assessment on his face. He was questioning her more than dismissing her entirely.

She sent him a sad little smile, "Oh, Ser Jaime I know more than you think I do. I am disappointed as your honour is hidden away not from the deed of slaying the king but from bitterness and ire at being scorned and thought of as honourless and childish protest at the unjust world. People call you the Kingslayer but it was not the act of kingslaying that lost your honour it was seeing yourself as such, by believing what people say about you, by being feeling inadequate and feeling a sense of injustice in this" Sansa shook her head and took her arm back.

She continued, "You know so little about honour. It is not about glory and recognition. It is about doing what you know in your heart to be just" She then looked into his green eyes deeply. She could see him drinking her words in carefully, "The vows are a guideline and in most cases sticking by them is what is right and honourable. Not many men have the ability to know right from wrong so easily so the vows are there to aid them" Sansa then grew bold and moved her hand to his golden breast plate and placed her palm over where his heart should be.

"You have the ability to see right from wrong. You run from ruling, you are a fighter and can fight for what is right" Sansa then removes her hand and turns away from him, "I am disappointed that you _chose_ not to do the right thing. Be the man you could be. A real man with honour and not a puppet. You have it in you to be as great at Ser Arthur Dayne, even if you are always known as the Kingslayer you will know and be proud of the man you are. Honour is not about what other people think of you but how you view yourself"

Sansa then turns away to leave, Lady shuffling at her feet.

But before she leaves she turns around to see the confused and conflicted look upon the Kingslayers face.

"How do you view yourself Ser Jaime?" She questions him but leaves before he can answer.

The chill is beginning to get to her but there is somewhere she must go. Sansa hides and avoids the drunken guests making their way to bed also. The feast must have finished a while ago. She should be in her bed but knows she will not be able to sleep with her mind as occupied as it is. This night has been too much for her and she needs guidance.

She makes her way into the dark godswood with Lady trotting obediently by her side.

She stands in front of the Heart Tree staring into the blood red eyes for a moment before going to her knee's.

"Please, send me guidance, I am so lost. Why have you sent me back here? Why now? I feel so alone. I must change fate and save many souls destined to perish. I do not know how I can accomplish this. Please, guide me" Sansa prays silently for countless moments.

Just as she is about to stand to return to her rooms a breeze wisps across her face and she hears a voice, _"_ _you can alter the course of fate but some things are meant to be. You cannot change someone's_ _destiny"_ A voice whispers in the breeze.

Sansa gasps and stands abruptly seeking the origin of the voice. She see's nothing but the dark godswood.

Sansa makes her way back to her rooms, feeling startled and worried.

Before she descends into slumber she contemplated the mysterious voice that spoke to her, 'it sounded like Bran' was her last concious thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm blown away by the support for this story! I'm shocked how strongly people feel about the pairing. Some of you are very for Tyrion and some very against saying you will stop reading. It is interesting. Unfortunately I can't please everybody. But for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you think and which way you want the story to go. Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning Sansa approached the main hall to break her fast; her ladies maids trailing along behind her and Lady scampering at her side. She passed a few men in arms talking amongst themselves and speaking loudly,

"You shoulda seen it. The kingslayer was still pissed this mornin', he wis found passed out in the stables!" There was roaring laughter here.

Sansa slowed her pace a little and listened in closely but discreetly.

"Aye, the queen was absolutely ragin'. He hid to be carried in by two different stable boys. Poor lads. Queens on the war path this mornin' stay outa her way"

As Sansa passed the men she pondered this new development. Jaime Lannister had not drank himself into a stupor the first time around. She felt giddy as the realization hit her, ' _he will not be present to push Bran out of that window!'_ She thought with glee and excitement. She had truly changed something for the better. It was just after midday when Bran was pushed from the tower and Sansa supposed Ser Jaime could be functional by that time but it was unlikely the queen would want a secret rendezvous with him if what is said is true.

Sansa practically strut into the main hall and sent a beaming smile to her mother which was barely returned as Lady Catlyns eyes held a warning in them. She must still be displeased from the previous night. No matter, she was too happy for anything to bring her down toady.

Sansa saw Queen Cersei seated near her mother and looking down upon the inhabitants of the hall. She had on a typical sneer and haughty look but when the Whore Queen looked upon her there appeared a nasty gleam in her eye.

Sansa sat across from her mother and beside the queen. Arya was sulking in silence to mothers left. Sansa shot Arya a sympathetic look. She noted that not many men had made it. They must be feeling the ill effects of the wine they drank the night previously. Sansa was secretly glad as this meant Tyrion was not present. She still was unsure on how to behave around him or how their first meeting should go.

"Lady Sansa, that dress is simply stunning on you. It does wonders to hide your young boy-like figure" Queen Cersei said with a little smirk.

Sansa smiled back sweetly, "Thank you, Your Grace. I wish I could be confident enough to wear a gown with such a _plunging_ neckline" Sansa said with naught but a happy smile. It was true that the gown the queen was wearing seemed ridiculous for early morning supper. It was a gown your wore for a special occasion or a feast or a wedding. Her bosom was on display in an almost crude manner, the fastenings were very tight and clung to her figure. The gown was also an ostentatious gold colour with royal red stitchings. Her mother was known in the North to be quite glamorous with her gowns and appearance and favoured as such compared to practicality as most northern woman do. But nextto the Whore Queen she was the picture of feasibility.

Another thing which Sansa did not notice the first time around was the looks of disbelief and irritation the other woman gave Queen Cersei. They were not impressed by her or the splendour of her countenance. She held back a cringe thinking how stupid she had been the first time, admiring the queen blindly.

The Whore Queen visibly startled at her comment and appeared as if she had swallowed a porcupine and looked at her in complete contempt. It amused Sansa. She kept a happy grin on her face as she began eating.

"Are you quite alright, Your Grace? You do not look very well I'm afraid. If you wish I could fetch the maester?" She began in a fake concerned voice. The queen sat up straighter, made a scoffing noise and narrowed her eyes,

"Yes, well, mayhaps it is the company, little wolf. The North is so monotonous and sombre. It is all so untamed and unsightly at this end of the world; even when Royalty is visiting. I fear I may never return" Cersei said with a twisted pleased tone and then finished her glass of wine. Sansa saw that no one besides the Queen was drinking this early in the morning.

At this her comment Sansa noticed something curious. The serving woman scattered throughout the room seemed to have paused their duties and her mother shifted in her seat slightly; but Sansas eyes did not stray from the Queens to see her mothers expression. This was interesting.

Sansa spoke before the Queen could say something even more foolish, she said, "I am sorry that you feel this way about the North, Your Grace. The Northern people are more pragmatic and enjoy the simple pleasantries of life; we do not have much patience for Southern refinery, I'm afraid. Your visit comes at the changing of seasons and we are preparing ourselves for that, Your Grace. Winter in coming and we need to be prepared" Sansa paused here to break eye contact with the green pools of swirling rage. Her eyes were like pits of wildfire; destructive and uncontainable. Much like the Queen herself.

Sansa continued, "The North not an easy place to become accustomed to, please let me know and I will be happy to aid you in getting yourself more comfortable" She finished graciously. Part of her deeply wanted to point out how ridiculous, spoiled and rude she was behaving for a guest but refrained from doing so. If Sansa has learned anything from her experiences in life is to _never_ stoop to your opponents level. The aim is to disarm and immobilise them, not become them.

"That is very... _gracious_ of you Little Wolf. Excuse me Lady Stark, I fear your daughter was right and I am not feeling well" The Lannister woman stated before standing quickly and ushering herself out of the room. Sansa also saw that she took Tommen and Mycerella with her. Sansa tried hard not to shake her head and sigh. Those poor children. Mycerella was happily chatting with Jeyne Poole; who looked like she had just entered the seventh heaven while Tommen appeared to be making fast friends with her youngest brothers. Perhaps she should do something about this...

Suddenly Sansa heard a pleased laughter interrupt her musings and turned to see Arya cackling with glee beside her mother.

"Arya, do not laugh with your mouth full" Lady Catyln scolded her youngest. Arya simply brushed it off by swallowing her food and grinning at her elder sister.

"Wow! You sure told her off! That was hilarious. The Queen looked like she was about to spit fire at you! I still think you should have called her out on being such an ungrateful brat but. Even _I_ know its rude to talk like that when your a guest" Arya scoffed and then continued eating her food.

Sansa spoke automatically, "Perhaps I should have and she would have most certainly deserved it. But that would have placed me on the same level as her and you wouldn't want to be anything like her, would you?" Sansa stated.

Arya snorted, "Good point. No way would I want to be anything like that stuffy _Lady"_ Arya practically sneered the word. This was evidently too much for Lady Catlyn who scolded Arya and shot her a displeased look.

Arya sighed loudly and slumped in her chair.

At that moment a serving woman came over and handed Sansa a lemon cake and gave her a wink. Sansa simply beamed back and thanked the woman profusely.

Sansa noted that Arya was glaring at the lemon cake in anger. Her grey eyes almost seemed accusing and angry about the injustice of her getting a lemon cake and she not.

Sansa did the only sensible thing. She cut the cake in half and pushed it over to her sister.

Arya's eyes shot up to hers in shock and then she did something Sansa could never recall her doing before. She smiled at her sister. When Arya Stark smiled her grey eyes melted to something warm and kind. Her whole face lit up but not in an exaggerated joyful way, in a soft and welcoming way. The Stark colourings and features were often compared to the North itself; harsh and unyielding. But when Arya Stark smiled you could see the great beauty she would become.

None of this mattered to Sansa at that moment. No Sansa's heart burst with equal amounts of happiness and sorrow. Happiness for making up for the mistakes of her past and sorrow for never truly seeing her sister smile at her. It was bittersweet.

"Thanks Sansa" Arya said and practically stuffed the small cake into her mouth. Sansa felt queerly proud that her sister enjoyed the treat so much. She herself nibbled daintily on hers.

The hall at this point was emptying, people leaving to go about their daily chores.

"Mother, may I be excused?" Arya asked.

Lady Catlyns eyes are on her eldest daughter, deep blue eyes swirling with curiosity and assessment.

"Yes Arya but do not be late for your lessons today" The Tully woman warns and Arya shoots up from her seat and rushes over to Bran and Rickon who are making their own way out of the hall. Her Direwolf pup racing behind her.

Sansa told motioned for Lady to go with them. They were no doubt going outside to play and Lady would enjoy that better. The pup jumped on her lap and licked her face before bolting out the door with the other pups. She smiled fondly.

"Sansa, will you come with me please?" Lady Catlyn said in a polite manner.

Sansa was puzzled and a little worried as she followed her mother through the halls of Winterfell.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the other side of the Castle in the guest quarters a beautiful golden haired women storms into someone's private chambers and slams the door forcefully behind her.

The man in the bed jumps from the loud noise and moves hastily to retrieve his sword when the woman scoffs,

"Oh, it is only me you fool. Put your sword away" She scolds and seats herself on the chair by the hearth, seemingly seething with rage.

Jaime Lannister was not having a good morning. He awoke to his beloved sister tossing a bucket of freezing water on his sleeping form and proceeding to yell at him until it felt like his sister turned into a Banshee. Jaime was already freezing from sleeping in the stables and was near certain his balls would freeze off in the harsh north.

On top of that, he could not stay concious and was awoken several times to said twin striking him across the face in ire whilst he was being clumsily carried to his own chambers.

Now, he is awoken _yet again_ by his beautiful twins rage and knows that he will be the brunt of it again.

Jaime wanted to go back to sleep. Badly. His head pounded, his mouth felt like a Dornish desert and he was still cold but he knew he had to rise. If not he would risk his sisters ire yet again and it would be even worse.

So, he stood lazily and approached chair seated beside his twin – taking with him the furs from the bed of course.

As he sat down on the seat his twin shot him a glare full of disgust, eyeing the furs on his form and his dishevelled state.

"Can you not fix yourself? Make yourself more presentable? You look like one of these Northern savages in your unkempt state" She sneered and looked away.

The comment stung Ser Jaime but he responded with his usual snark, "Oh? You do not like the look? I was going for something more ruggedly handsome. Do I not pull it off?" He asked in a mock innocent tone and smirked at his sister, hoping to lighten her mood. It did not work.

"Be serious for once Jaime, you look a mess, this is no laughing matter" She huffed and flicked her long golden hair. His eyes followed the movement and he wanted to run his fingers through her silken locks but knew now was not the time.

His frustration was building and his ego was wounded – not that he would ever admit it. He snapped, "Seven Hells Cersei I have _just_ woken up, how do you expect me to look? I am also quite thoroughly hungover and still cold and sore from your treatment of me this morning. My Apologise that I am not to your standards, _Your Grace"_ He spat out.

She seemed to falter then sigh deeply, "I am not myself this morning Jaime. I have had a rough morning" She stated. Jaime picked up on the tone of her voice and looked to his twin in concern.

She looked vulnerable at this moment, which warmed his heart. It may seem callous of him but he loved his sister most when she was like this. When she let down all her defences and sought him for comfort and affection.

Cersei rose from her chair, every inch the regal Queen she was and made her way over to him. He could not help his eyes trailing down her beautiful body. It was displayed quite nicely in the fancy gown she had gown. He felt his member stir as he looked upon her in all her glory.

His sister knelt at his feet, building his arousal. Her green eyes looked into his deeply and she began running her soft hands up his breeches.

"I need you to do something for me Jaime" She said in a soft sultry tone. His eyes darted from hers to her face and down the gown which displayed more of her creamy teats as she leaned forward.

"Anything" He answered simply, because he would do anything for her.

She smiled back at him and her hands continued to rise further, nearing his crotch which was now rock hard and aching for her attentions.

She made a hmm noise and continued, "You know Ned Starks daughter?" She continued in a soft voice. He was only half paying attention at this point and grunted as her hand came into contact with his straining member.

"I need you to get rid of her" She continued in the hypnotic tone. She stroked him firmly through his breeches but he was too distracted. What was she saying?

"Can we speak of this later?" He grunted and joined her on the floor, attempting to take her into his arms and kiss when she pulled back sharply and stood. He followed suit confused and a little frustrated.

She explained, "You are still a mess Jaime and your breath is foul. There is no way I am entertaining you after your little display last night and this morning" Cersei suddenly sounded harsh to his ears and shot him a scolding look like one would give a child.

His frustration was doubled by being so tired and hungover.

"What do you want Cersei? I am in no mood for your games" He stated and moved to get a drink of water, now self-concious.

"I told you want I wanted. I want you to take out the Stark girl" She stated quite calmly.

Jaime almost choked on his water, "Take her _out?_ You mean for me to kill Ned Starks daughter? What is wrong with you? Which one are you referring to?" He asked.

Cersei looked personally offended by his remark but he didn't care. He was not foolish enough to kill Stark's daughter. Additionally, why would he want to kill a little girl anyways? He may be the king of questionable morals but even he would not kill a child.

She scowled at him as she spoke, "The eldest, _Sansa_ Stark. The one with the red hair and body of a young boy. She is an insufferable little cunt and I want her dead" She spoke in an angry but unusually calm voice for one speaking of murdering a child.

Jaime was startled by mention of the young girl he had spent the night trying to forget. Sansa Stark. That was her name. Unusual one she is. She was brave and unique. Not to mention beautiful. She would rival Cersei in beauty when she grew. The Stark girl had made him do something he had never done before; reflect upon his actions and himself. Never before had somebody dared to expect more of him, think that he could be a better person and take his own path. They all wanted something from him, whether it be punishment for his actions towards the mad king, serve as a dutiful knight, be the great Lord at the Rock or... be a lover and... this paused his thoughts for a moment. Just what did his sister want from him? His love, companionship and happiness of course. He scolded himself for thinking differently but a little voice in the back his head began to niggle him.

Cersei said impatiently, "Well, will you do it? We do not have much time as we will not be staying at Winterfell for long. You will need to make it look like an accident, perhaps if she fell from a flight of stairs? Or her own beast ripping her throat out?" Cersei began to muse in a thoughtful voice.

Ser Jaime frowned, "As I said I will not kill the girl and that is final. What is wrong with you? She is just a child Cersei, surely you can overlook whatever slight she may have caused"

His twin simply paused and then glared at him, "Oh? And who are you to question me on morals, _kingslayer?"_ She hissed.

Jaime felt a sharp stab in his heart at the comment, "Enough, Cersei. I will not kill the girl and you are mad for thinking I would" He finished in a strong voice. He then turned his back to her and poured another glass of water, effectively concluding their conversation.

He heard a crash and then her angry footsteps stomping towards the door before slamming it shut.

His whole body sagged with relief as the door to his chambers shut was a bang.

He sat back upon his bed and rubbed his face.

His twin was certainly a passionate woman. _Passionate but irrational._ It usually worked in his favour but not this time.

This was a disaster.

Why on earth was Cersei wanting to kill the Stark girl? _Sansa._ What could she have possibly done to offend her so. From his interactions with her the night previously he supposed she must have pointed out some truths and made her questions things like she did with him. It was odd. It was like she shone a new light upon his life and made him see things more clearly than before.

He did not like it. It _changed_ things. He felt it deep inside of him. He just did not know what yet.

And yet... it gave him hope. It felt like he had been given an opportunity to do something. No one had ever supported him and let him be himself. He was always trying to be moulded into something that someone else wanted him to be. All except for Tyrion. In many ways the Stark girl, _Sansa,_ reminded him of his brother. Honest. Not hesitant to tell it like it is. He was actually a little fond of the girl.

He felt uncomfortable at the thought of having to kill her.

She seemed to think that he could be more than what he was – a kingslayer. She thought that he had... honour inside of him. No one believed he did. Not even his other half as she just proved mere moments ago.

Feelings of hope, frustration, confusion, want and denial all swirled inside of him making him feel uncomfortable.

Ser Jaime Lannister sighed deeply and slumped back upon his bed.

 _What am I to do? I need some advice._ He thought wearily.

* * *

Sansa was led by her mother to her fathers solar where he was working.

He looked up as they entered and sat back to give them his full attention. Her mother sat beside him and Sansa sat across from him. Nervous butterflies danced in her abdomen uncomfortably.

"What is the matter?" Lord Stark questioned, eyeing the two red heads curiously.

Lady Stark sat with a calculating expression on her face as she looked at her daughter,

"Ned, I think Sansa was telling the truth when she spoke about her future dreams"

The room feel silent and father and daughter exchanged a wary glance before speaking,

"Why do you believe so?" Ned asked his wife with his daughter looking on worriedly.

Catlyn Stark then sighed and continued looking at her daughter, "Her behaviour at the breakfast table... was most curious" She stated.

Sansa felt shame fill her belly, the kind of shame that can only be achieved from your parents, "I am sorry mother... I-" She began before Lady Catlyn held her hand up to stop her.

"No, do not apologise Sansa dear, I am impressed. You handed the situation perfectly. Everyone in the hall was pleased by your response to the queens goading and then your behaviour with Arya. You were so mature. You behaved just like the respected great Lady I knew you would be" Her mothers eyes then shone with pride and Sansa's eyes filled with tears. She bowed her head in gratitude and to hide the overflowing emotion on her face.

"Oh Sansa" Her mother sighed and rose from her seat. There was no fooling Lady Catlyn. Sansa was drawn into her mothers arms and shushed gently. Tears now ran freely from her face. Sansa felt joy but the emotion was so raw she continued to cry.

"I believe her also Cat" Ned broke the tender moment between mother and daughter.

They both pulled back and began fixing themselves to rights before taking a seat. Ned smiled fondly at the pair, so alike.

"I am so relieved that you both have such faith in me. I will do my best not to let you down" Sansa grinned at her parents. A young grin, full of youthful joy and relief. Both parents smiled lovingly at their daughter.

"Is there anything that you wish to share with us Sansa?" Her father asked with worry.

Sansa bit her lip in contemplation, _what to tell them... what to tell them..._

"Yes, I am not the only one in our family gifted by the gods" Sansa stated. She knew Jon to be a warg and he was told that all our family must be for our Direwolves to follow us as they do. She did also knew from Meera Reid whom befriended Bran after his fall that he had the gift of Greensight as well as her Meera's younger brother. It was the information that she learned from her that lead her to spin such a deception to her parents.

Both her parents were startled, "I believe that all of us are Wargs but some more powerful than others, I am not certain who yet" She said, wanting to ward of questions she had no answer to.

"I also know that Bran has the gift of Greensight and will be the most powerful of us all" Sansa explained.

Her mother looked worried but her father appeared more contemplative.

"Will you teach him when his powers start to emerge?" Ned asks seriously.

Sansa frowns at this before speaking, "I do not like that is such a good idea..." She said warily before coming up with a brilliant idea, "I think that you should foster Howland Reed's children Father" She smiles happily at them before explaining.

"His son is a greenseer also and about Brans age. It would be best if he had someone his age that he can relate to in order to learn from. Lord Reed's daughter Meera is also around Arya's age, it would be good for Arya to make some friends" Sansa was quite pleased with this development.

Her father nodded and replied, "It shall be done"

He then looked wary and sighed, eyes going back and forth between her and her mother.

"I must tell you Sansa... I decided to become Hand of the King"

Sansa bit her lip and nodded sadly, heart filled with sorrow and panic.

"Sansa dear, it is for the best. You just cannot refuse a king like this. Especially since he already rejected a proposal between yourself and Prince Joffrey" Her mother consoled her gently.

Sansa nodded woefully, head still down.

"I suppose you are wanting me and Arya to travel south with you?" Sansa says in a dejected tone.

"No" Her father stated strongly. She looked up sharply, very confused.

"I think it would be best for you both to stay here if things are as volatile in the south as you say. I will travel alone, perhaps when things are stable enough down south you can visit" He says with a slight unhappy smile.

Sansa tries to keep the shock out of her face.

"That... would be wonderful father. But, may I warn you to not cause any strife with the Lannisters? Even if such is justified. Swear to me you will consult me before you cause any conflict with them. Please" Sansa begged her father and he observed her carefully for a few moments before answering.

"Very well, I swear"

Sansa sighed in relief.

"Sansa who was it that poisoned Jon Arryn?" Her mother asked her with concern. Sansa gave a look to her father before answering.

"This news... may be distressing to you mother, I think father should share this with you"

Her mother looked very worried then and Sansa felt awful for the betrayal she was about to learn of.

"Before I leave... There is one other thing..." Sansa began hesitantly, unsure how this shall be received.

Both her parents look at her expectantly, "I think I and Arya should learn to fight and to wield a sword"

Lord and Lady Stark looked at her as if she had just grown a penis. On her face.

She sighed heavily, "I am aware of how this sounds coming from me. I ask naught because I _desire_ to. I ask because I think it is necessary. Winter is coming and very harsh times are ahead and..." Sansa looks down and feels herself getting emotional, "I just... do not want to be a victim this time. Both of you cannot be there to protect me at the times. You have your own duties and so will I in time... I just want do not want to be so helpless" She ends in a whisper and suddenly she is engulfed in an all consuming embrace from her mother. She is practically smothered in her bosom as her mother strokes her hair and makes comforting noises. Then her father hugs both their forms cuddled together.

Sansa had never felt so safe before.

"I will never let anything happen to you Sansa" Her mother repeated in a mantra.

Her father was silent but eventually spoke, "You are correct Sansa, Winter is Coming and although it fills me with dread to think of you without our protection we must prepare you for the worst. Let us pray you shall never need use of these lessons" He stated solemnly.

Ned then pulled back and returned to his seat.

Lady Catlyn still held onto her daughter but loosened the hold to look upon her husband with worry, "Our girls cannot be taught by a master-at-arms alongside her brothers, such would be too unseemly" Sansa smiled in her mothers arms. Lady Catlyn, always the voice of propriety.

Ned frowned at this.

Sansa was yet again struck with another brilliant idea.

"Actually father I have someone in mind to teach us. I think you will approve. She is a woman from the south and still a fierce fighter. Not to mention she is more honourable than all the knights in Kings Landing..." Sansa trailed off feeling giddy.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Happy holidays everybody! I hope you've had an amazing Christmas or whatever you celebrate. I had intended for this to go up on Christmas day as my gift to all of you but no. It didn't work out like that as I am slowly dying of the worst cold in the history of man kind.**

 **This is the moment you've all been waiting for... Tyrion and Sansa meeting! I hope this has lived up to your expectations.**

 **As always, let me know what you think or have any idea's on how I can improve my story :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tyrion Lannister was a curious man. Or half man as he is more commonly known. His curiosity was one of his greatest assets and biggest weaknesses. It drove his quest for knowledge but often times landed himself in more shit than a stable boy.

As Tyrion Lannister wandered around the grounds of Winterfell he assumed this time it would be the latter.

He had just come from an interesting conversation with his brother. A _very_ interesting one. Jaime appears to be completely floundered by the eldest Stark girl. It was all very amusing and frustrating. She seemed to have him questioning the basic fundamentals of his own life. This was frustrating for Tyrion as he had tried to do this many times previously and failed. Jaime seemed so stubborn and starry-eyed when it came to their sister that Tyrion believed he would always be in the dark. Until now. He _had_ to know just what the Stark girl said to his brother to provoke such a reaction; made Jaime think about more than fighting and fucking Cersei.

Mayhaps it is simply the same issue as with Cersei. Jaime using his cock as a compass when it came to his life. Tyrion could hardly fault his brother on such a weakness but he liked to think he himself did not become a total fool when a pretty face and warm cunt was involved. ' _Not that any woman has shown enough interest for me to act as such_ '. He thought with a bitter little twist to his mouth. He tried to remember the Stark girl from the welcoming party. He could not recall her. He remembered noting that all of Lord Stark's children aside from one scruffy haired little girl all had the colourings of a Tully. He was also focused on the small Direwolf pups beside each Stark. How old was the Stark girl? Lord Starks eldest son is only a year above Joffrey. Then it cannot be simple misguided lust. Even by the farthest stretch of the imagination she was still too young, if not a child still.

What on earth could she have said to Jaime that managed to help him pull himself out of his own arse?

Mayhaps it was the innocence of a child that helped him strip away all of the bullshit? Is is a possibility. Either way he needed to know.

It was his infinite capacity's for curiosity that had him touring Winterfell and subtly finding out as much about the Stark girl as he could without drawing attention to himself. He did not learn anything that gave him an explanation. She was beautiful. She was dutiful. She was a perfect little lady. She looked so much like her mother. None of this helped him any.

Tyrion was a man on a mission. Or rather an imp. He was determined to discover what happened with his brother and make sense of the situation. One way or another he would find the Stark girl.

* * *

Sansa had had a long and tiresome day. She was surprised at how readily her parents listened to her council and how much they respected her idea's and opinions. She was still a child. Admittedly, they would be fools not to heed her advice. Sansa has had much experience leading as a Lord Paramount and they must notice her new-found wisdom and knowledge of such things. Although Tyrion officially held the title they both worked together equally to run their land. They balanced each other well, Sansa taking care of the duties Tyrion was weakest at and he doing the same with her. Now she seems to be doing this again with her parents. As much as she loved them, they had their flaws. It was skill that even her husband was impressed with: She was able to accurately define an individuals weaknesses to an extremely fine point. She was master. Afterall, she was taught by the best...

She shook herself of these thoughts lest they take a sinister turn.

Sansa now wandered through the great castle grateful for the small break she had from her duties. After her lessons, she supped with her father and Maester Luwin discussing the running of Winterfell when father went south. Her mother entertained the guests; her and fathers presence not being necessary as the king was not in attendance. Most likely whoring. He had several of the best brought up from Winter Town. A fact which Lord Stark was most displeased about.

Sansa strolled outside and made her way to the upper balconies that overlooked Winterfell.

She climbed the steps and as she got higher it grew darker as she drew further and further away from the torches that lit the outside of the castle. Thankfully when she reached the top there was still a faint glow of firelight that illuminated where she stood. It was unwise to be here alone and without an escort she knew but at the same time she knew she was completely safe in the walls of Winterfell even with the kings entourage visiting.

Sansa stood. She had no idea how long she watched the people below go about their business. Many of them were drunk, unsurprising considering the time of night. From her perch high up and half hidden in darkness she was difficult to spot but she could see them all.

Sansa saw a large figure staggering drunkenly. She watched the man with curiosity. Men were leaping out the way to avoid him and when a loud barking laughter reached her ears she knew it to be The Hound. She smiled fondly at him. She watched amusedly for several minutes as he stumbled around the courtyard. She turned her head seeing a direwolf pup run up to his large form. It barked happily and ran up to him standing on its hind legs indicating it wanted lifted. Sansa knew that pup: it was Lady. She could easily recognise her by her docile, agreeable and friendly nature; not the mention the ribbon she used as a collar with a pendant that had the name LADY engraved into it that reflected in the moonlight.

The Hound stumbled and then she could hear him grumbling as he lifted the little pup. Sansa grinned openly when Lady licked The Hounds face and watched as he peered around him. The courtyard was empty.

Curiously enough, he began talking to her pup and Sansa strained to hear, even leaning over the ledge to listen but she could not make out what he was saying. She pouted. She had never wished to be a warg more than at this moment to know what The fierce Hound was whispering to her little wolf pup.

Sansa watched the pair amusedly as he carried her off and continued speaking in hushed whispers.

Her mind began to drift back to Kings Landing when she was a prisoner. More specifically the Battle of the Blackwater and when she had sang for this man, a different song than the one he sought out.

Without realising it she began to sing the mothers hymn gently until she was interrupted,

"You have a lovely voice, my lady" A voice spoke from behind her. She froze. She would know that voice anywhere. It's _Tyrion_. Her husband... or future husband as it stood.

A thousand thoughts crossed Sansa's mind at this point as she tried to collect herself, ' _What am I wearing? Is my hair a mess? Is this gown too childish? What should I say? What is he doing here? Has he sought me out?'_

That last thought excited her and she turned around slowly to face the man behind her.

Sansa looked upon Tyrion and smiled softly, filled with joy to be around him again, "Thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tyrion" She said in a quiet but affectionate tone. She took him in in all his glory. His hair is shorter than she could recall and neater. He was clean shaven and most surprisingly, he had his nose still. Although no one could ever accuse him of being beautiful he didn't have to be; he was _hers._ His frame was small and disfigured, but still, she longed to run her hands across his wonderful body and smell his unique musky but clean scent that permeated from him. How she missed him.

She looked into his mismatched eyes and she could see him studying her but very discretely. Only she that knew him so well would have been able to detect such a thing. A small smile graced her face at this.

* * *

Tyrion stood and evaluated the maiden in front of him. She was beautiful. Breathtaking even. She was tall, but then everyone was to him. She looked very much like her mother with the same colourings and shape of face. The girl, also, however had the clear white skin of a Stark and her features held a certain graceful and ethereal appeal that Tullys did not have. She was a perfect blend of both her houses beauty.

Although her beauty was obvious, it was not the first thing that drew Tyrions attention. It was her eyes. A rich blue colour that looked upon him... warmly. It was... disconcerting to Tyrion. A woman has never looked upon him like that. Not even his sister. In actuality, there was- but, no. That was not real.

Tyrion studied the affection in her eyes but beyond that there was also... a certain wisdom and awareness that one did not see very often. He already knew her to be intelligent what with Jaime's reaction to her but still he wondered...

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, my lady" He replied graciously staring directly into her eyes. Clear blue orbs stared directly back, as if cutting right through him. He cleared his throat a little uncomfortably but still did not avert his gaze. She stared back evenly, prompting him into action. The girl was brave, he would give her that. She must be to stare directly into his ugly mismatched eyes, a feet with which made most men uneasy. She had not even made any noticeable distaste for his deformity. It was impressive.

All of this he gleaned in a few short moments and when he studied the look upon her face she looked almost indulgent with a small smile on her angelic face. ' _Has she noticed me analysing her?'_ He thought uneasily and a little embarrassed.

"It is awfully late for a young Lady to be out on her own. Would you allow me to escort you back to the castle?" He inquired. Oddly, he felt a little apprehensive of her reply. The girl has barely spoke ten words to him and she was throwing him through a loop! He felt a new sense of understanding and sympathy towards his brother.

He gestured for her to walk ahead and she moved gracefully and walked forward. He quickly waddled over to her side and wondered how to start the oncoming questioning. Jaime will not have studied her or noticed just how different and unique she is, no, subtly is not his strong suit so it must have been something she said to cause such an impact. He needed to get her talking.

"So, Lady Sansa, what is it like living in the cold unforgiving North?" He inquired and wanted to smack himself for the stupidity of the question. What was he doing? He was becoming as flustered as a maiden on their wedding night! What has gotten into him?

The girl turned slightly and shot him an amused look before replying, "The north is not unforgiving, my lord. It is harsh and cruel to its enemies but I often times find it warm and comforting. There is many fun ways to discover how to keep oneself warm" She said in a polite and friendly tone.

They were now walking down the steep concrete steps that he cursed the first time rising. Why couldn't he have found her beside a warm fireplace with a ready bottle of wine on hand. It is never that easy. Tyrion huffed in exertion from the steps, his bowed feet aiding him none. The Stark girl did not seem put off by his struggle or even appear to notice there is one. She simply kept pace with him. She was extremely good. Around her he almost felt... normal.

Tyrion shook his head a little at the ridiculous thought. He was not normal. He was a dwarf. An abomination. A half-man, imp, demon monkey and monster all rolled into one. A fact which no one let him forget. Lest of all himself.

It took him longer than it should have done to realise that she was teasing him.

He laughed heartily, "Indeed, my lady. I will have an enjoyable time discovering these many mysterious ways of keeping warm. Tell me, is there any good books in the library that are worth reading?" The reason for him asking such a question was two fold. First, he wanted to see how intelligent the girl really was and this was a basic but effective way of finding out how well read she was. Secondly, he was honestly curious about her answer. She was not like an average high born maiden. She gave off an air of sincerity, honest kindness and affection; which many ladies strive for – including his dear sister – and fail miserably at. He wondered if she was really that earnest. Tyrion was excellent at weeding out the falseness and bullshit of people's countenance but he could not detect the faintest whiff from the girl. It fascinated him and filled him with hope. He refused to consider why that may be.

"Hm... I would have to say _Baeleious: The Winter Dragon_ , written by Maester Serren. It is an extremely old tome which is seldom read and its only copy resides here in Winterfell. Baeleious was the only confirmed Ice Dragon existing on this side of the narrow sea. It is a very interesting read" She recommended much to his astonishment.

She liked dragons? There was a Ice Dragon that existed in Westeros? Tyrion had spent his whole life reading upon dragons and had never known this.

"Is that so? I did not know this and I thought I knew all about the history of dragons. Why have I never heard of this?" Tyrion said mostly to himself pondering this new development. This was certainly a pleasant surprise. He was very eager to read this book.

He heard a light chuckle and saw Lady Sansa look at him almost fondly. He couldn't be sure, no one had ever looked at him like that.

"Well, my lord, not many people are interested in a dragon that was docile and spent it's time helping to build the wall and hunting for members of the Nightswatch. Compared to the Targaryen dragons which burned armies to a crisps and conquered kingdoms" She noted wisely. This was a very astute observation. Dragons were endlessly fascinating to him and he was excited at the prospect of discovering such a hidden gem in the libraries of Winterfell. But with this new revelation he was also all of a sudden feeling very wary.

The girl was good. Very good. How did she know he liked dragons or was it all a coincidence? Likely not. Whilst dragons make for a good read for just about anybody this particular book would only appeal to someone as fascinated with dragons as he, as she pointed out.

He hummed non-committally as he pondered this new development and how to proceed. He would need to be careful.

As he struggled with the last of the blasted steps, the girl stood at the bottom and looked up at him with a slightly concerned look. They were at height and he could look into her face properly from this position and with the new lighting he got a much better look at her face. His breath hitched at the sight. The face of an angel.

"Please, my lord, I can see you have become suspicious of me. I understand your concerns even if it saddens me for you to think so" The girl said quietly and looked down, blue eyes finally breaking their hold on him. He observed the girl carefully and she appeared to be earnest. He would very much like to believe her; he truly did. With the face of an angel, surely no treachery would ever befall from such perfection? But Tyrion was no fool and knew that even the most beautiful flowers had the sharpest thrones; and she was a beautiful winter rose.

She looked up again and he scrutinized her very closely as she spoke, "I know you have no cause to believe me but I suppose I will have to show my sincerity in time. I simply pray that you let down your defences enough to see the reality" She said simply, whilst looking him in the eye.

He was more confused than ever. It was the most confused he has been in many a year and all because of this little slip of a girl.

The confusion must have shown on his face, a fact which bothered him greatly, as she smiled at him gently and said in an even softer tone, "You most likely wonder why I am acting in such an improper way. I apologize. I spend my time watching and listening and I like to take in people's characters. And you fascinate me. I do not know you well, at all really, but I have a feeling that you are different from everyone else I will meet. You may be small but I see a big destiny behind you, waiting to be released at your command. Even a small man can cast a big shadow"

"..." He was speechless.

"Lady Sansa, Lady Sansa!" Tyrion is broken out of his daze to the sounds of men scurrying around him and guardsmen shouting the Stark girls name.

A guard runs over to them but only has eyes for the lady in front of him, "We have been looking for you everywhere! Come quick! It's your brother, it's Bran, He...he fell whilst climbing, it doesn't look good. Come on" The guard informs in a speedy and distressed voice.

Tyrion is in shock and his eyes immediately zero in on the girl. Her face has gone even whiter and the blue eyes of calm water are now drowning in pain. The utter devastation on her face makes his heart clench.

She mumbles something about being excused, to him presumably, before dashing off behind the guard, just keeping up her lady-like behaviour, just.

It is unfortunate but the pained look upon her face has told him more about her than his meagre attempt at conversing. She cares deeply for her brother. Loves him. She has a good heart. At least in some aspect. It is unsurprising that she is loyal and honourable. She is afterall a Stark. Not to mention the, ' _family, duty, honour'_ values she undoubtedly has also been raised by.

He stood for a moment pondering this until a harsh wind send shivers down his spine and he finally mounted the last few steps.

Tyrion rubbed his hands together, making his way to his rooms whilst pondering his strange encounter with the very special girl.

Sansa Stark was a curious mixture of pure innocence and sharp intelligence. It was a blend that never seemed to exist with both at such polar ends lest the never meet or survive each others company. It was truly fascinating.

He still knew naught what she said to his brother and undoubtedly it was something much different than what she said to him but he could imagine it had somewhat of the same effect. She was so different than the ladies that the Lannister boys were used to. She beguiled them. Not an easy feet for his brother and that goes doubly for him.

His fascination and admiration of the girl was in one word, troubling. Tyrion was actually concerned about her after seeing her so distraught over her brother, this in itself was troubling. Why should he care? She was interesting and unique, yes but to be personally involved was unwise and foolish of him. She was sweet and inviting. Too inviting and too sweet. Her countenance made him forget himself which is something he could not afford. She was bad for his state of mind.

None the matter, after his short visit to Winterfell he would never see the girl again.

Why did this thought fill him with disappointment instead of relief?


	7. Chapter 7

It felt like she had swallowed a pineapple, her insides were so screwed up.

Sansa had not spoken a word since seeing her little brother laying their completely still tucked carefully in bed. She stood in his chambers, at the foot of the bed watching his form with an expressionless face. His chest rising and falling rhythmically was the only indication she was still, in fact, alive. Feelings of guilt and sorrow stabbed at her insides. She could not forgive herself for such an oversight.

"Sansa, dear... did you... _see_ anything about Bran?" Her mothers stricken voice broke her out of her self-loathing.

Sansa looked at her mother whom sat dutifully at Bran's bedside. Sansa was unsurprised at her dishevelled state and felt even more guilt well up inside of her for causing such pain to her family. To her _brother. Oh god..._

Her father hovered at the other side of the bed, gaze intent on her and grey eyes cautious but hopeful. Both of her parents were looking at her to know the state of her brothers health. Looking at her to give them hope.

Sansa sighed wearily and saw how they both expected the worse at this gesture but she was quick to speak, "Yes mother, I have" She said in a strong and steady voice which did not reflect her distraught and despondent state. Sansa met her parents gaze strongly to convey the honesty in her statement, "I swear to you that Bran will awaken" She said.

Lady Catlyn then broke down in muffled sobs of relief and Sansa's heart felt like it was bleeding for she knew she had more to tell them.

Lord Stark, whilst visibly relieved seemed to sense that there was something else she had to say and waited patiently.

How could she break the news to them?

Sansa's eyes met Maester Luwins briefly as he stood discreetly in the corner, a look of understanding passed through them. He must already know.

"However..." Sansa began and felt her throat tighten.

Her mother looked up at her again, her face twisted in such agony it felt like a physical blow to Sansa. She did not want to impart such news to her mother, watch as her heart shattered before her eyes but it needed to be done.

She kept her mothers gaze as she spoke.

"Bran will never have use of his legs again mother..." She gasped here and Sansa bowed her head unable to bear the look in her eye, "I am so sorry" Sansa's voice trembled but it never broke, to her surprise.

Lady Starks sobs echoed throughout the entire castle.

Sansa's eyes burned but she did not allow tears to fall. No that would be too easy. This was her fault. She should have known better. Stopped this. She _knew_ Ser Jaime was going to push Bran and yet her arrogance and oversight cost her brother the use of his legs. Ser Jaime was not the man she had known. Was she really so foolish as to believe she changed a man with such a brief conversation? She would never forgive herself.

Sansa kept her eyes to the ground in shame but looked up when she felt a hand placed firmly upon her shoulder. She met the solemn gaze of her father and kept it despite wanting to cringe away in shame. Sansa thought she saw a flicker of pride in his eyes before it clouded over with grief.

"Come Sansa" He said in a gruff voice. Sansa nodded and followed him silently out the room, unable to look back at her mother who's cries felt like they were stabbing at her insides.

She followed her father silently, nerves churning in her abdomen. She wondered if he would scold her for being unable to prevent Bran's fall or if he would merely be disappointed. She had an inclining he wanted a serious chat with her and she was dreading it but knowing she must face up to her grievous mistake.

Perhaps he would even condemn her for it.

She entered his study silently and sat across from the large and imposing desk of The Lord Stark of Winterfell. He only ever spoke to his children here when he said something important, bestowed some wisdom or they were in trouble.

As he was seated he sighed heavily and as Sansa observed him he looked... weary. Like many a hard years were weighing him down. Too many winters, grief and responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. She could emphasize.

"Sansa... about Bran..." He began slowly but with a pained undertone that made her cringe and bite her lip. She would not take her eyes off of his now which her looking at her seriously. She would not be craven.

"This is not your fault" He stated in a strong 'Lord Stark of Winterfell voice'.

She sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head.

"No, father.. you do not understand. I knew... _I knew_ that Bran would fall and be crippled-" She saw him flinch and immediately felt guilty, "-I was foolish and arrogant. I should have saved him... I-" Her voice caught here, throat closing up in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. She would not cry. She had no right to. This was her fault. Her gaze fell to the floor and she desperately tried to compose herself.

She heard her father's chair scrape back and almost sighed in relief. He was leaving so she could cry in peace, without witnessing her pathetic bout of self-pity.

To her surprise she felt herself being lifted gently and embraced by her father. As she felt his arms wrap around her securely and as her face nuzzled into his strong chest she instantly burst into uncontrollable tears.

Lord Stark stood strongly and held his daughter for a long time. Sansa felt a great weight lighted as she cried and cried into her fathers chest. She wept for all that she had lost before- her father, her mother, her brothers, Arya, Septa Mordane, Lady, Winterfell and now she had lost again. She had lost _Tyrion... and Dany..._ But her tears began to subside as she thought that although she had lost them it would not be permanent. She would get them back, she would do whatever it took. This time she would lose _no one._

The only one she had never lost was Jon. She felt a swell of love for her brother. She would never lose him. She couldn't.

She continued hugging her father even though the tears had subsided. She did not want to let go. Never had she felt so safe as in her fathers arms. Protected, cherished and never alone.

"Sansa..." He spoke and Sansa felt a burst of love for him at the gentle affection she heard in his voice.

"As I said, this is not your fault. You are not omnipotent. You have already done so much for our family, you cannot prevent things that are meant to be. Every hardship which you do not prevent is not your fault. It is not your responsibility" He explained in gentle but firm voice that brooked no space to argue.

She sniffled and a part of her- a large part- believed him, even though she knew this to be unture.

He pulled back to look down at her face and she saw the honesty reflected in his eyes, "I am so proud of you, my daughter. You are so brave and strong, stronger than even me. You stood tall ready to receive punishment for something you thought you have done wrong. When people look at you they see a Tully but I know that you have the blood and, most importantly, heart of a Stark" He said in a serious but quite voice that was laced with sorrow, affection and pride. She could see how much he meant it in his gaze. It made her heart clench in joy.

"Thank... thank you father. Your loyalty and admiration towards me is astounding" She said back and then gave him a sad little half smile, "But my role in this needs to be recognised, though no true ill intent the result was the same. I _should_ have known that I hadn't stopped Brans being pushed. He shouldn't have been a victim this time. I was so _foolish_ in thinking he had changed-" Sansa's tongue began to loosen as her temper rose.

"-Hold on, what are you saying? A victim? Sansa clarify please" Lord Stark was back and suddenly looking at her intensely. She held back her shock and replied immediately and obediently.

"Yes a victim, his attempted murder resulting in-" But she did not get to finish as her father sucked in a sharp breath and looked surprised. She had forgotten to mention the attempted murder... fuck. Yet another mistake.

Sansa stayed quiet as she watched several emotions flicker across his face as he accepted this new revelation. That someone had attempted to murder his son. This would not be good...

He remembered himself and returned to his seat, seeming conflicted about something and thinking hard. It was the 'what does this mean?' face she often teased Jon about when he brooded too much and became too introverted.

She smiled fondly and took her seat also.

He seemed to have come to a decision, "Sansa, I believe your efforts were not in vain however the outcome remained the same. Your actions have made a great deal of positive change" He said with an odd contemplative look on his face.

She regarded him for a moment or two before speaking, "Father, I believe that you are confused" She said slowly.

A rueful smile lit his face and he looked mildly amused, "Oh? I believe that is you that is confused, daughter, your meddling with the fates is a blessing for us but a curse for you, for it seems, that destiny cannot be altered"

His words send a jolt through her. Where had she heard that before? This was all becoming very tedious and frustrating.

"Father, speak plainly and think with an unbiased mind. You are being cryptic and my oversight crippled my brother. Where is your Stark sense of justice because this whole conversation has, frankly, been frustrating and I know not-"

Suddenly a deep hearty laughter broke from her fathers chest.

She blinked and looked at him.

His head tipped back, he looked years younger than his usual solemn self. It deflated her ire a little looking at him so carefree. He did not laugh often.

"For the truth that I have spoken earlier about your Stark heart, I forgot just how much like your mother you can be" As he spoke, he did not smile but his eyes shone with an exasperated sort of affection than can only be given to someone you truly love.

"What does that mean, pray tell?" She inquired with a lift of her brow and a haughty look on her face.

His lips twitched.

"That is what I mean, daughter, the Tully stubborn streak" He leaned back on his chair. The atmosphere in the room was much lighter than it had been when she had entered.

"Yes, this coming from a Stark?" She huffed.

He let out another bark of laughter.

Her patience was running thin, even if he was her father.

"Sansa, what I am _trying_ to tell you is that no one attempted to kill Bran" Although he spoke strongly and surely she did not believe him.

"No father, he was pushed from that tower" She said plainly, since when was her father this dense? Did he not believe her?

He continued looking amused, "No, he was not. He did not even fall from the tower but the wall of the gates as the kings party rode into Winterfell" He explained patiently.

Although she heard the words, they did not resonate in her mind.

"...but-" She attempted but was cut off.

"Sansa, your conviction towards your beliefs is admirable but I witnessed him fall with my own eyes. He was not pushed, there was no attempt at murder. So stop being so stubborn and accept this truth, as I said you are not omnipotent. Just because you see glimpses at the future does not mean you can meddle in destiny, that is the will of the gods"

Sansa sat for a moment, opening and closing her mouth, her mind reeling. So she had changed something... Not the important part but still... She changed something.

"I see..." Was all she could say.

He then gaze her a soft look and rose from his chair.

"I must go now daughter, I have duties to attend, please think upon my words carefully and do not allow yourself to be burdened with guilt. Your meddling with fate will change many things and no doubt make the world a greater place, this is a blessing. Every grief in the world is not on your shoulders to bare. Trust in yourself and the gods"

and with that speech he left the room to go be the imposing Lord of the North.

Sansa sat there for a while. Thinking. Her mind was wrapping around this new information and considering it carefully. What her father said has merit but does not ease her ill feeling. She had planned to change it _all._ He was correct in saying that she was not all powerful but was this not the will of the gods for her to change everything? Was this not why she had been sent back? Evidently not.

All of this philosophical contemplation was making her head ache. This was her husbands area of expertise, not hers.

With a sigh and a stretch, the young lady rose from her seat and retired for her evening. However as she slept her mind was plagued with one simple thought, _what am I unable to change?_

* * *

The next morning rose to the eldest Stark daughter in a foul mood indeed. She had not had much rest and that she did was fretful at best.

Her hand maidens fussed with her appearance and her low mood continued to sink as she recalled that she would be dinning with the royal party and the queen. Could this day get any worse?

Apparently it could.

As Sansa made her way slowly towards the great hall, after a hard look and mild death threat towards her handmaidens for attempting to escort her, she was accosted by someone complete unwelcome.

"Good morning, Lady Sansa, wonderful day is it not? No snow, blistering winds or frigid temperatures. A rarity in the north I believe" Spoke the handsomest member of the kingsguard. He fell into a walk with her, his golden armour glinting in the little light that shown through the windows.

She sighed in annoyance at seeing the infamous kingslayer. She knew he did not push her brother but he still represented all that she had lost and the reality that she could not save everyone. Logically, she knew it not to be his fault but it still did not stop her from feeling resentful towards him.

She levelled him with a mildly surprised and reprimanding look, before looking away and walking with her head held high, "is it not a little early for the hidden insults and fluffy bullshit that thrives in court, which is now plaguing my home? Not to mention that you cannot say anything about the vast beauty of the north based on a little poor weather when your inheritance is a rock. Literally, a rock. A gaudy overly ostentatious rock, but, still, a rock. Oh wait-" Sansa paused in her walk to turn and look fully at the knight, making sure his attention was on her before speak again,

"You do not have that inheritance now, do you? You gave it up to be a errant boy for first a mad king and now spend your days watching a man eat and whore himself to death"

His eyebrows rose and a stunning smile spread across his face, "Wow, that was a little much, was it not My Lady? Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or rather, a different bed?" He send a little smirk here that had her glaring at him,

"-or not, ah, I see now, it is your womanly time that ails you. My sincerest apologises for being so thoughtless to provoke your ire at such a fragile time of the month" He said in a false apologetic voice.

She controlled her temper here knowing that would let him win, "Oh? Your are not forgiven for you are entirely wrong as to what ails me and just to make this clear, I am not yet plagued with such womanly issues, Ser. As any man should plainly see" She finished in a dry tone and began walking again, sweeping through the many halls of the suddenly too large castle.

He kept pace with her and made a thoughtful little noise at the back of his throat, "Yes, it seems to have slipped my mind. You are vastly more mature for someone of your age range" His voice oddly complimentary.

She scoffed, "I see. Flattery will get you nowhere, good Ser, for there is no where to go. Must I remind you, I am but a _child,_ so if anything will get into that inflated head of yours then, please, let this be it" She paused again to level him with a look, "Or do you know this already and are so inclined that way? It would only be another stain on your reputation, I suppose" She donned a thoughtful face and heard him laugh loudly.

She sighed and commented, "You have spent too much time around Ares, sunshine"

He rolled his eyes at her.

"Keep rolling your eyes, ser and you might find a brain back there" She said.

He chuckled again, "Sunshine? Where, pray tell has that name come from? Most call me Kingslayer?"

"Yes and most are too stupid to form coherent thoughts. Sunshine because that is what you are" She stopped yet again, and gestured to his attire, "with the gold hair and golden plated armour, you really are just a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" She finished in a sweet voice and pinched his cheek for good measure.

He seemed stunned for a moment before furrowing his brows but smiling in amusement, "That is rather emasculating, it does not strike fear into hearts like kingslayer" He tisked.

"Oh? I think you have mistaken my for someone who gives a dam. My apologises, sunshine" She replied and saw the door to the great hall come into view, _finally._

She felt a hand tug on her upper arm and halt her mid stride. She looked at the hand for a good moment disdainfully to get her point across before giving the golden haired man a raised eyebrow and defiant look.

To her great surprise and amusement he looked frustrated, "Do not call me that" He said sullenly.

To this she could only grin brightly, "Do not call you what, sunshine?" She used an innocent voice that had him clenching his jaw.

"That, now stop it" He sounded exasperated, poor baby.

"My apologise, goldie locks, I had not intended to offend" at this she free'd her arm and walked briskly away to the sanctuary of the great hall.

"With all these pet nicknames, one would think you were enamoured with me, Lady Sansa" He spoke loudly as although he followed her he was still a little away.

As she opened the door she turned and gave him a reprimanding look, "One day, sunshine, you will choke on the shit you talk" She then sent him a very Jaime-esk smirk and entered the great hall with a stomach full of self-satisfaction.

* * *

Tyrion sat, or rather slumped ungainly at a table in the great hall of Winterfell. Not that it matters, he did not have appearances to upkeep. His face alone ensured that.

He was exhausted. Too much wine and too little sleep as usual. He had spent his night hunched over a very fascinating great tome about a certain ice dragon. It was almost as fascinating and the lady who recommended it... _No,_ he scolded himself. He had forbid himself to think of her, it will do him no good to dwell upon her, he knew. Yes, she was beautiful but still merely a child! However, it was not her looks that attracted his attention it was her kind, insightful behaviour... _STOP IT._

"I think I am in love" He heard the usual cocky voice of his elder brother state dreamily as he flopped down next to him.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys, so its been ages since I've updated sorry. No good excuses except that life gets in the way but don't worry as this fic has not been abandoned and will continue. I love idea's and opinions so if anyone wants to give any constructive criticism then I'm all ears. Now on with the chapter.**

* * *

"I am flattered, brother, truly. But unfortunately I do not share the same proclivities as you and Cersei" Tyrion replied to his brother in a dry tone.

Although the Lannister boys were seated in a busy hall they were given a wide berth, meaning no one would be able to hear their conversation. Something which Tyrion checked automatically. He was also aware of a few people eyeing his brother with interest, curiosity and most popularly, disdain. The northern men were as hard and unyielding as their winters and looked at his brother if he was a personal stain upon their honour.

His brother merely sent him a smirk and began filling his plate, "Oh? How disappointing, I shall inform my better half she will be most distraught" Jaime bantered back.

Although jesting with his brother he was truly curious as to whom he was referring. It was obviously not Cersei as he would not have stated such a redundant sentence. Tyrion was filled with a perverse kind of glee thinking of his _darling_ sister losing Jaime as her bitch.

Tyrion attempted to ask discreetly, "So, pray tell, who is this unfortunate woman?"

"A certain little red head. With ice in her veins burns hotter than fire, my brother. Passionate, for a northern woman. Do you think Lord Stark would challenge me to a duel if I propositioned his daughter?" Jaime smirked, whilst eyeing the Lord of Winterfell which a glint of glee in his eyes.

Tyrion choked on his water.

"E-excuse me brother? Do not tell me you are lusting after a child. That is most dishonourable, even by _your_ standards" Tyrion attempted to banter but he was truly in shock.

He knew that his brother was not _truly_ in love with Stark's daughter, he would be a fool to believe so. No, not by the way his eyes were resting lustfully upon their sister at the moment. No. What shocked him was that Ser Jaime was jesting around about being in love. That his brother was still stuck upon the young maiden. Very young maiden, he might add. She was a bloody child and here they were Lannister brothers, tripping over their cocks, heads full of pretty maidens. No, he cannot allow this. This was becoming too much. The girl was fascinating indeed but he could not allow them to become too fixated upon her.

This would be the last they spoke of her.

"So, dear brother, what did you do to get Cersei's knickers in a twist?" Tyrion asked as he watched the queens jade eyes glare with fury, locked upon the man seated next to him.

His brother laughed heartily and looked his way, "Just the usual, little brother, just the usual. All will be back to normal once we leave this frozen wasteland and are back in the Red Keep. She cannot keep her hands off of me for long" The knight replied winking.

Tyrion scoffed back.

* * *

Things were not going well for Sansa. In the days following Bran's fall, her mother had not left his bedside and she had her duties to attend to. She had not had to do this the first time around and her father placed more responsibility upon her shoulders than before. She was still undecided if it was a good thing.

Father was preparing to ride south. Something that Sansa thought was beyond foolish and into the realm of suicidal. She had _told_ him that he would be beheaded there but did he listen? No. She had been giving him advice and making him swear to certain things. Like not to make an enemy of the Lannisters _no matter what._ Sansa had even given the stipulation even if they killed the king then he would _not_ retaliate. Her father was quite shocked at this and said as Hand it would be expected of him to fight for his king. She merely scoffed at this and said he needed to learn a lot about the Lannister's and that they would never openly betray the king but they have a tendency to stab people in the back – and it will be him if he isn't careful. Her father was most displeased but made the promise to write to her and explain the situation carefully before taking action. Any action.

Sansa had also informed her father of the state of the crown's finances and that King Robert was utterly useless. Sansa also suggested – quite innocently – to dismiss Littlefinger as master of coin, after all, it is his fault the crown is in so much debt. Her father nodded at this and sighed, looking troubled. Sansa had also pointed out his biggest enemies will come in the form of those who wish to help him. Not to mention that the walls in the tower of the hand were hollow and spies will listen in on him at every available moment.

The only different thing was that he was going alone. This only served to worry her more. Her father was not fit for the vipers nest. Only an idiot would think so. It was most unfortunate that King Robert was one.

So Lady Sansa had been rushed off her feet constantly and was exhausted. In the very little time she had for herself she spent with Jon, talking about anything and everything. He really seemed to relish in her sudden acceptance of him. Arya, not so much. She was with Jon often and was obviously suspicious of her new found behaviour. Not that she blamed her, Sansa was truly an awful sister. She had a lot to make up for. Sansa only hoped that when they started learning how to wield a sword together Arya would be more welcoming. Sansa would be unsurprised if her sister never truly accepted her but knew that she would always cherish and protect her younger sibling for she knew how awful it was to have lost her.

The kings visit was lingering as her father was reluctant to leave with his son in critical condition even though he trusted her 'visions' that he would awaken. Here in rose another issue. The assassin sent by Joffrey to kill her brother.

This is how she had got here. Awoken at the crack of dawn, on her feet all day long to suffer to various menial tasks that accompanies a great lady with guests in her home. Her duties, along with her mothers and even some more minimal of her fathers - as King Robert often took her father away from his work - was now her burden alone to bear. She had very little time for meals and had eaten sparingly throughout the day. Now was the most monumental task of the day. Trying to get her Lady mother away from Bran's bedside so she could stop the assassin on her own so to not raise suspicions with the Lannisters and keep the peace. Not to mention finding someone who would kill the perpetrator for her whilst keeping the secret.

It was a difficult decision and although there were several options she could choose from she decided on the most beneficial to her in the long run.

She had worn a warm woollen gown today and was taking a short walk through the grounds with her pet direwolf, passing the area where men were sparring. She made it appear to be having a leisurely stroll and not paying attention to the men fighting. This time, she couldn't help but notice the lustful stares sent her way and felt a trickle of revulsion rolling down her spine.

"Lady Sansa, what a surprise seeing you out here. What are you doing pray tell? Browsing for a husband?" The arrogant but pleasant voice of the kingslayer drifted from behind her. _Perfect._

She turned around slowly and shot him a mildly irritated look, "If that is indeed what I was doing Ser, then I will look no further for obviously it is a hopeless cause" She replied dryly causing him to chuckle loudly. The pair was earning a few interested looks and some scathing.

"you wound me, Lady Sansa for you are not besotted by my dashing good looks. An ailment which seems to effect most northern women, a very unfortunate plague to befall this side of the world" He donned a disappointed look and casually fell into stride with her. She noted he wore his usual gold-plated armour again but this time with the addition of a sword as he no doubt was showing off in the field.

She looked at him from the side of her eye and said, "Surely you have better things to do than to follow me around, I have important business to attend to Sunshine" She stated and saw his brows furrow but lips smile a little at the name.

"Oh? And what is this? Are you late for your embroidery lesson? An appointment with a seamstress? Mayhaps you are on your way to the kitchens to sample desserts for tonight's feast, such a taxing and weary filled life you lead My Lady" He said and sighed heavily to accentuate his point. She shot him an unamused look.

They had entered the castle together by this point, Lady trotting along happily by her side.

"No, I have overheard that a man has been hired to kill my bedridden brother. I now have the task of convincing my mother to leave his bedside so she is not present when the man arrives and I cannot speak of this to anyone as I found this out by being somewhere I was not supposed to be, not to mention I have no idea who hired this man and I do not want to be punished for making unjust accusations against our esteemed guests and provoke anything. So that is my issue Sunshine, now that you know you can leave me alone and find someone who enjoys your _esteemed_ company" She stopped to look at Ser Jaime as she said this and saw the complete shock and a little glimmer of excitement enter his green eyes.

 _Hook, line and sinker..._

"You... are speaking the truth?" Ser Jaime asked looking completely astounded. She didn't bother answering as she turned around and began making her way to Bran's room.

She couldn't hear but knew the knight to be following her. She knew he was a decent man and this proved it, he couldn't let her get hurt and was there to help. She let out a small smile at this.

He suddenly moved to her side.

"You know My Lady, I was thinking..." He said in a thoughtful voice and she jumped slightly at the sound, slightly startled by him.

She heard him chuckle softly at this.

"Oh? A thought crossed your mind, Sunshine? Must have been a long and lonely journey" She commented.

He made a scoffing noise at this, "Perhaps, but my thought was how exactly do you intend to deal with this intruder My Lady, if I may be so bold?" He asked in a flippant manner but Sansa knew he would not be asking if he was not concerned.

She sighed, "I have a dagger strapped to my thigh and my wolf to protect me" The young lady stated primly and was immediately stopped with a hand to her arm.

The kingslayer looked dumbfounded, "You surely cannot be so reckless and foolish, Lady Sansa? A measly little dagger and a pup to protect you and your brother? Have you ever killed a man?" He asked the last part sarcastically.

Of course she had killed a man. Well... technically in this life she hadn't.

She huffed and crossed her arms, "A pup? I'll have you know Lady is perfectly adequate at protecting us" She replied and hearing her name spoken her wolf proceeded to yip happily and wag her tail enthusiastically at the pair with her tongue lolling to the side and panting, making her appear to be grinning.

"Yes. What a fiercesome creature she is" He stated plainly. Lady stopped wagging and whined piteously.

She scowled at the man speaking and lifted her pup, "Do not be cruel to her! She is not a savage but will protect us just fine. I thank you for your unnecessary comments Sunshine but now I ask you to kindly leave as I have my _important business_ to attend to. Good day, Ser" She said primly and swiftly walked away from the very amused looking man watching her go.

She would never admit this out loud but she was growing fond of the knight. He was much like her husband and she can see how the two brothers were so close. There was a chance that he would not aid her and will inform her father of her intentions but she doubted it. This was a test. One she believed he would pass. If he aided her this day then she would ensure he remain a constant in his brothers life and Tyrion would not learn of his betrayal at the hands of his fist wife. It may be callous and controlling of her but in the long run Tyrion is better not knowing and having his brother to support him. Many things could be said about the Kingslayer but not one could accuse him of being a bad brother.

Sansa finally arrived at Brans door and knocked on it politely before entering the room. The sight which met her not was unexpected but still disheartening. Her mother looked years older with limp hair and unkempt clothes. She was furiously stitching to keep occupied and she could see how overworked and pained her fingers to be. Maester Luwin was not present but knew him to check in when he had a free moment.

Bran looked asleep and peaceful, like an angel boy laying there. She knew he would awaken but still felt worry and dread fill her seeing him like this. He was usually so full of life.

Her mother had not even looked up upon her entrance.

Sansa cleared her throat and her mother's head shot up, "Mother, you have stayed here for four days straight you must rest" She said in a kind and reassuring voice as she made her way to the chair seated on the opposite side of Brans bed.

Her mother sat up straighter and looked slightly ruffled, "I thank you for you concern Sansa but what I must do is be here for Bran when he wakes" She replied in almost an accusing tone.

Sansa merely raised her eyebrows, "I did not speak a lie when I said he would wake but it will be a while yet and you wasting away here will do you no good when he does rise for you will be too exhausted to truly help him" She retorted.

Lady Catlyn was becoming visibly agitated at this point, "Thank you for your wise input Sansa but I am not leaving his side until I am _certain_ that he will be alright" She said in a firm and displeased tone.

Sansa knew that she had to do this the hard way.

"Mother..." She sighed and made sure she was looking at her when she spoke, "I love you, I do and I am also very worried about Bran but you cannot stay here like this. At the very least you must bathe and eat, _when_ Bran is awake he will need the support of his mother and not to be strong for her as she is so distraught and exhausted that she is no use to anyone" Sansa could see her mother's fury and indignation rise at her statement that she could not care for her son properly, "Look mother, for days now me and father have let you stay here because it is what you needed to work through your grief. Myself and Maester Luwin have taken on your duties and responsibilities as well as my own and the additional work I need to complete as King Robert keeps whisking father away to go hunting or drinking and I am exhausted, I have no patience to deal with this. You are wasting yourself away by looking after Bran but you have other children who need you and you cannot do that if you do not take care of yourself. Arya is running wild and Rickon has been beside himself wondering how Bran is and where you are. He needs you, we all do so even if you do not wish to leave this room then at least go get some food, have a rest and for the love of the gods _wash yourself,_ I do love you but you are starting to smell" Sansa then wrinkled her nose comically here and watched as her Lady mother laughed once then broke down into shuddering sobs.

Sansa automatically rose and walked around to embrace her mother. It was a bitter sweet moment for her. Caring for her mother made her happy but seeing her strong mother so broken was very humbling. Many a time over the years she wished for her mother's embrace and knew her mother would protect her at any cost. That she could defeat any foe for her but seeing her so... _human_ was a little sad for her. She adored her mother and knew she always would but seeing her in a different way made her realise that although she had a child body she was not one. She could never get that innocence back. Sansa let a few tears fall at this revelation.

Her mother eventually pulled back and began cleaning her face with a handkerchief.

"I keep forgetting how wise you have suddenly gotten Sansa" She said in a sad voice. Sansa smiled sadly at her but said nothing.

Lady Catlyn looked upon her son's frail body and her breath caught in her throat, "...Sansa I am just so worried about him. It is torture not being sure he will wake and how he will be. I know I may seem like I am going mad...-" Her mother's voice caught here so she decided to cut in.

"No. Not mad, just a concerned mother" She gave her mother a comforting look and Lady Catlyn appeared to have gained some strength from these words and she finally rose from her seat.

"You are right Sansa, of course you are right. I must be strong, I have duties to attend to and other people who need me. I thank you for reminding me of this" She said in a grateful voice and then looked upon her with so much love it made her eyes water, "I often-times look at you and see myself at your age but you are far wiser than I was I'm afraid. 'Family, Duty Honour' You may be a Stark but you are just as much a Tully. You will make a wonderful Great Lady some day" She said proudly before laying a gentle kiss on her daughter's forehead.

Sansa tried to stay calm but was bursting with pride at her mother's compliment.

Lady Catlyn then left the room and Sansa knew she would not return for many hours. The only issue now was when the assassin would arrive. She had no idea. In fact, she had only learned about the man sent to kill Bran sometime in the last year as her husband shared to her the revelation that he discovered and when he finally realised that Joffrey was pure evil. Tyrion only knew that Joffrey hired him on this day but not what time. So she had a long time to wait.

Sansa sighed impatiently and looked at her brother's frail face. She sighed and reached up to stroke some of his hair away from his sweaty face.

"All is well brother, you will be fine" She whispered and then began singing softly to him in hopes of perhaps soothing him.

* * *

Hours later and Sansa was extremely bored. Her thumbs traced the edges of her dagger as she waited for her guest to arrive. She was not accustomed to sitting around doing nothing anymore as she is usually swept off of her feet or spending time with her family in this life and the last. So sitting around was especially tedious for her and she prayed the man would arrive soon.

She heard a bang at the door and rose to her feet swiftly. What she saw she was not expecting. The man was grubby and unkempt. She could smell the mud and alcohol from here and she was honestly surprised a man such as him was admitted entrance to Winterfell at all.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" She demanded in a strong voice and gripped her dagger strongly. She could see him inching in the room holding the beautiful Valyrian Steel dagger looking out of place in his grubby hands.

"Ye weren' suppose to be 'ere" was all the man said before his eyes drifted towards Bran and Sansa prepared herself for the attack.

Sure enough, he lunged towards her and she threw herself in front of Bran's bed. Although Sansa had prepared for the onslaught it did not arrive. Instead, she was shocked to see the man trembling before her, trapped by a dagger at the throat and a golden arm locked around the intruder, the black blade clattering against the floor as it slid from his grasp.

She sighed in relief. Although she had planned this and even _predicted_ this exact situation, her heart still pounded in fright and she still trembled in anxiety. She was sending a silent prayer to the gods when a voice interrupted.

"You were saying about having the situation under control, My Lady?" A droll voice spoke from behind the trembling man who now smelled suspiciously of urine.

"Pleas' don' kill me, I was jus followin' orders doin' what I wis' told. Nothin' wrong. Pleas', good ser, I didn' do anyfin'" The man began to weep and plead and she was rather disgusted by his cowardly behaviour.

"Who?" She demanded stepping closer, although she knew the answer this part of her plan was important, "Tell me who sent you?" She demanded harshly.

The man twitched a little and she saw the dagger press deeper into his throat and a little blood draw, falling down his filth stained shirt.

The man began babbling incoherently and was silenced by the deeper cutting of a blade, "Do you know who I am?" Ser Jaime spoke in a curiously pleasant voice, one might hear from a feast or special occasion. Sansa tried not to let to amusement she felt show upon her face.

"y-yes y-y-yer the k-kingslay-" The man continued to sob, the tear streaks more noticeable on his face due to the grime.

"Yes I am, now, I understand your position and I need to know who hired you to kill this boy. I do not want to harm you, there is no need. So let me know and I swear that no harm will come to you" He said in the same pleasant tone. Sansa felt a brief flicker of nostalgia hit her. That tone of voice... it was so familiar. It was the same conversational tone Tyrion used when keeping up appearances but in the company of an enemy. It was very difficult to note but after a while she could tell the subtle differences. After a year, she stopped being surprised when her husband told her after a friendly feast or amiable chat that the individual in question was a traitor or plotting their demise. It made her exceedingly homesick.

The man continued to weep and struggle a little until he came to a decision, "It was the prince, m'lord, the young prince. I had t'do it. Who am I to deny the heir t'the throne-" The man confessed his employer and she noticed the visible tension seep into Ser Jaime's body.

Sansa moved to the side and caught the Kingslayers eye and saw his shock, revulsion, dismay and panic as the situation hit him. She had to play this carefully, it is no revelation that Jaime Lannister does reckless things in bad situations. Sansa had to take charge.

She stared into his deep green eyes, such a beautiful colour she was almost envious and said in a clear strong voice, "Kill him" The eldest Stark girl ordered the knight in front of her.

He immediately complied.

The man's throat was slit before he could form a response to her statement and although she had moved to the side she was still in the line of blood splatter. She frowned when she looked down upon her ruined gown. It was one of her favourites. Sansa's mind flashed back to when her throat was slit in such a manner. It was painful yes but over so quickly. She couldn't help but think did Tyrion, Jon and Dany get sprayed with her life blood? Sansa imaged the look of horror and emptiness enter her husbands eyes as she fell to the floor, dead. She imagined how alone and unloved he would feel when she was gone and how full of regret and blame – for she knew he would blame himself – when he found out she was with child. His child. The family he had always wanted and was so close to having only to be ended right in front of him whilst he could do nothing. He would become bitter, even more so, filled with hatred and having nothing left to go on for.

"...Lady Sansa" She heard a muffled voice say and looked up in a daze, feeling herself wobble slightly she felt an armoured hand steady her slightly. Sansa blinked rapidly, looking at the blood on her gown with an odd sort of detachment. Blood did not bother her anymore, no she had been drenched in it enough to let it pass but she couldn't help but think what happened when she had died. Did Tyrion stand like she did just now covered in her blood?

"Lady Sansa" She heard again but a little clearer. She looked up and saw the handsome face of Ser Jaime Lannister very close to her, his face filled with sympathy and a certain knowing.

She blinked at him, unsure of what to say, wishing it were his brother that was with her right now.

"Lady Sansa, you are alright. Here" He said in a calm voice and she felt herself being led backwards and sat down upon the chair she had been seated at.

She was in an odd sort of daze. A daze that she would go into when her mind went into overdrive and shock as it does in situations when she is highly distraught. She recalled the first time this happened when her father was beheaded before her screaming started. Then when she was rescued by the hound after she was almost raped. It all seemed so long ago. What did not seem long ago was sleeping in her husbands arms. Being killed before him.

Lady Sansa sat completely motionless and stared at the dead body of the man sent to her brother, imaging it was her. What happened after she was killed? Did she truly go back in time or was this another world and Tyrion is living on, by himself? Having to stare at her dead body and grieve for what might have been.

* * *

Ser Jaime crouched down upon the floor beside the distraught Lady. She was not even a Lady yet but a child. It was painfully obvious now. In all his interactions with her, he often forgot how young she was as she was tall for her age and more witty and intelligent than most of the fools in Kings Landing combined. But now seeing her blue eyes gleam with shock and pain he could recall she was still a little girl.

It had been an eventful day for him, that's for sure. Cersei was still pissed at him and Tyrion was hungover so he decided to best the northern men in a good spar to piss them off even more and get back for all the scathing looks they sent him. Foolish prideful northern men. In heightened spirits he was pleased to see the young lady out for a stroll and his curiosity led him to following her into the castle. To say he was shocked when she stated what she was up to was a major understatement. Just what in the hell was this girl thinking? Taking on an assassin on her own with a pitiful blade and a pup? The Lady would rather risk her life than admit to her father of any dishonourable behaviour on her part. Sounded like a true Stark. So he did the only rational thing one would do in this situation. He followed her to aid her if necessary.

Although he would confess that he felt a kind of worry in his stomach at the thought of knowingly leading the girl to her death – along with her near dead brother – he did not do this for wholly altruistic reasons. No, he knew that Cersei had wanted the girl dead and knew how resourceful his twin could be when she wanted something, so he feared this was a plot he had stumbled upon and if it failed then he would need to clean up her mess, as he usually did. He was conflicted, he truly was. He stood in the shadows and watched the vile man creep into the boys room and considered if he should follow. On the one hand, could he really condemn two children to die for no good reason when he could have prevented it? Memories of Rhaegar's children and his promise to protect them flashed into his mind, filling him with guilt. Then again, if this is a plot of his sisters then he should leave it be. He was first and foremost on her side and if this was her doing then he should not interfere. No one knew he was there, there was no blame to be had. Then again, the filthy man did not look like someone Cersei would associate herself with even for a messy task such as this. His curiosity got the better of him and he entered the room in time.

Again he was astounded when the attacker claimed to have been sent by _Joffrey._ His nephew... _his son._ Why would he do this? Surely he could not be capable of doing something like this, he was just a _boy_ for crying out loud. Regardless of whether the confession was false or not he still had a witness in front of him and he had to deal with it. He couldn't allow her to tell anyone about this. It would start a war no doubt about that and with the way Robert treated Joffrey as it is, he would most likely take Ned Stark's side. Then if Stannis returned and revealed Joffrey to be born of his seed... It was over for the Lannisters. For his sister. She would be dead before his father could even raise the banners. This was a disaster. Whilst he contemplated the shit storm he was now in the girl ordered him to kill the man.

He did so without hesitation. That was one witness down, now to deal with the other one. As he looked at the young Lady trying to think upon his feet to the best course of action – he briefly entertained finding Tyrion – he noticed the state Ned's Stark daughter was in. Her eyes roamed the blood covering her gown and he could see the mild confusion and dazed look she wore. He had seen it often enough on the face of green boys who had just killed for the first time or witnessed death. It was at that moment her age came rushing back to him.

Lady Sansa's usual rosy cheeks were now chalk white and her eyes wider than usual, gleaming blue as bright as the rivers that surrounded Riverrun sparkled on her ashen face. She looked so young, staring at the blood in confusion and was so deep in thought she appeared frozen like an angel made of out ice.

He approached her slowly and said hesitantly, "Lady Sansa" She did not respond,

"Lady Sansa" He repeated, again no response.

On the third occasion, he moved close to her and touched her upper arm briefly, attempting to be comforting. He recalled after he had killed the mad king and was covered in his blood. No one was around. No one had to know it was him. He was certain he looked similar to how Lady Sansa had at that moment. It took him a while to regain his bearings and then absently sat upon the Iron Throne whilst wondering if this uncomfortable piece of old weaponry was really worth it.

She finally responded by looking up into his face, even if her eyes were vacant. They were searching and yearning, for what he did not know but the sheer devastation on her beautiful face would be enough to melt the coldest of hearts. He led her to a chair and made her sit down in the hopes it would bring her back to her senses.

"Lady Sansa, you are alright. Here" He said, unknowing the correct thing to say in this situation. He had to keep her silent but how? She looked so disorientated it would surprise him if she came out of this stupor anytime soon.

But as with most things with this curious young northern girl, she shocked him yet again.

He watched with fascination as the pain fled from her eyes only to be replaced with a hard steel he saw in the eyes of her father. The deep, bottomless blue now appeared to be more grey and Stark like than one would think.

She turned to look at him with her face set in determination, "We will speak of this to no one" The red headed young Lady stated.

He paused to look at her for a moment, "Excuse me?" He said again in shock. Was he hearing her right? He expected her to dash from the room to inform the guards but then again... when did she ever do what he expected her to?

"Yes, we will tell no one" The Lady repeated looking mildly annoyed. He blinked before laughing uproariously. Just who was this girl?

As his laughter died down into chuckles he heard her say, "Has anyone ever told you, Sunshine, that you have a serious issue with not taking things seriously?" She asked in an unamused voice and before he could let out a snort he heard her mutter, "of course you have, what was I thinking" He chuckled again at this.

She began speaking again, "I see you are confused by my statement. Let me explain. We will speak of this to no one because if I or we did then my mother and father would not rest until the perpetrator is punished and according to this man that is Joffrey. This could result in war as my family would not give up and it is uncertain as to what side the king would take. We also do not know if that _man_ was speaking truthfully and further more, war is not worth this. I say the best course of action is to forget this whole situation" She explained in a calm rational tone.

Lady Sansa was not done, "However" She began. Her tone of voice was much darker and she was looking at him in warning, "This may be a freak incident. I can let this go as he did not succeed in his mission. If there is another attack towards the Starks and it appears to be from the Lannisters then I will not let it be forgotten and will seek retribution. I do not want war. It would be pointless and messy. Nothing has occurred here thanks to your intervention and I know if you had been in on this plot then you would not have intervened. I thank you for that. Now, are we in agreement?" She finished her lengthy speech and he had to think this over for several long moments in order for him to be sure that she was sincere. It appeared she was. Her rationale made sense although it did not fit with his view on northern ideals on honour and justice.

"I see and you will never speak of this again and you will completely forget this ever happened?" He repeated, still unsure it was a trick. It seemed to good to be true. She must be jesting or attempting to fool him to save her own skin.

The lady then seemed to sigh wearily, much too wearily for someone her age and looked upon him tiredly.

"If that is what you wish, I do however, have an alternative that would be beneficial to both parties" She began. His intrigue skyrocketed at this. The young Lady Sansa sounded much like the bullshitters at court with that little statement. The knight was immediately on guard but more curious than ever. A Stark, playing court games? Most unusual but amusing if the pup believed she could play with the lions. He admired her bravery and would let her continue because as much as he loathed to admit it she had the upper hand. The little girl had him by the balls and could use this information about Joffrey to blackmail him and his kin for a very long time. He doubted she was knowledgeable in these types of games but playing it safe he did not let her know she had the advantage.

Jaime Lannister then let out a loud puff of air, "Alright pup, I am listening to your supposed proposition that will benefit us both" He began in a sarcastic and dismissive manner. He moved away from her to the opposite side of the boys bed – carefully sidestepping the corpse that made an atrocious mess within the room – and sat on the chair opposite the girl in order to watch her carefully for signs of falsity. In all truthfulness, he did not expect this kind of game playing from the girl and that is what had him extra cautious. It was the ones you didn't expect that stabbed you in the back. He hated these power games and was growing impatient already. Tyrion no doubt would have thrived at this situation. Again he thought how well his brother and this fiery little red head would get on and as he pondered the odd but fitting pair the Lady's voice interrupted him,

"I want us to forget about this, I most definitely do but seeing as this situation makes us allies of a sort I was hoping I could ask for a favour" The girl said hesitantly not as confident and taking charge of the situation that she should be if she was trying to manipulate him. Then again, the soft unsure little girl act aimed to gain sympathy could be more powerful weaponry in her arsenal.

Jaime made a curious noise at the back of his throat and settled more comfortably into his seat, his golden armour clinking a little at the movement, "I see. So the little pup has claws or in this case teeth. I am truly impressed, it is a pity you shall not be travelling south with your father for you could do well it in the capital with the right amount of connections. Is this what you are hoping to gain? How very devious and not very honourable. You are less of a Stark than I had thought" He then smirked to throw her off a little and to rouse her temper. It worked beautifully. The Lady Sansa scowled at him and crossed her arms across her blood sodden gown.

"No, that is _not_ at all what this is about. You are an arrogant, foul tempered fool whom if I was wishing for connections would not go to unless I desired to be eaten alive" She began hotly what he knew to be a long rant by the irritation swirling in her eyes and tone of voice, "I have no desire for the power games and false partnerships but I was hoping that since we are stuck in this situation and you are the only individual I know who is able to comply with my request and would not breathe a word of it to my father but if you are going to be this arrogant about it then I take it back" She finished in a dignified tone. The young Stark girl would make an excellent high Lady, her manners, propriety and just the right amount of haughtiness was remarkable. A feet his stunning sister had not even perfected.

He ignored her implication that the proposition was over with and retort, "I see and this _favour_ that I shall grant you, what will I get in return or may I keep it?" He sent her a dazzling grin which had the ladies blushing or giggling but Ned Stark's daughter's anger only seemed to rise,

"No. I have previously stated that I do _not_ wish for these silly power games and that includes owing you anything for if anything, in this situation you owe me and I could use this to hang over your head for as long as I wish" He sucked in sharp breath here. So the pup was aware of her advantageous position here... interesting but only served to confuse him more, "As I have stated and will repeat as you are obviously thicker in skull than should be physically possible – I am asking for your aid in a small matter and you do not _need_ to comply as if you do not follow through there will be no consequences. However, if you do then I may aid you in the future" She finished.

Jaime Lannister was very confused and a little frustrated at this point. What game was she playing? It seemed as if she was not playing a game at all and was naively asking for help. That could not be it... could it? Once again, he wished it were Tyrion in his shoes and not him. His devious brother would no doubt thrive on the mystery that is Sansa Stark. His mind wandered as he considered introducing the two and was eager to know if his brother could figure her out immediately. In all likeliness, he would.

"Why?" He asked the one thing that he knew he shouldn't, lest he show his ignorance as a weakness but he had to, "Why me? I know this situation is as good as any to request this but in regards to the mutual and obvious distaste of our kin then why on earth would you ask for my aid?" He questioned and did not regret it as he saw her eyes weakening and vulnerability shining through.

The Stark girl was silent for several long moments. When she began to talk it was slow and steady, "I believe that... we are both in similar situations. I love my family and only wish to protect them and so do you. As our houses are – as you pointed out – are at ends which one another then we are in the best possible position to aid each other from other unexpected foes..." He was still confused at this point so she explained, "My father is riding south, he is a good and honourable man but he will not prosper in court life. In fact, I would not be surprised if he ended up dead and I only wish to protect him. The tension between our two houses will certainly be used against both of us and to prevent that from happening I am asking for your aid as I will give you mine. You may dislike my father and House and I may find you insufferable" She gave him a brief scathing look to which he smiled, "But working together to achieve our own ends will be prosperous for the both of us. It may be dangerous if we do not as I am under no delusions of my father suddenly wanting to sooth any mistrust between the Starks and Lannisters" He snorted here in complete agreement, "So will you please... look out for my father in the capital?" She finished in a small and childlike voice with big blue imploring eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak when she hastily blurted out, "You do not need to _do_ anything if you wish but... keep me informed of the goings about in court. Particularly if he has made unknown enemies or someone is trying to play him for a fool and I would be infinitely appreciative if you stepped in when you could"

Here he could not contain his amusement and chuckled, "You wish for me to spy on your father? Do you have so little faith in him?" As soon as he heard her request Jaime knew he would accept. The great and honourable Lord Stark's daughter is turning to the _kingslayer_ to help as she does not trust her father to do his duty without being killed. Oh how beautiful this is. Not to mention smart on a political level. He had never considered other lords taking advantage of the discord between their houses but knew it to be a very real threat. If he could smooth it over – just a little – then he could save the headache before it came to it.

Jaime did not want to be taken for a fool and usually knew when he was. This situation did not seem the dishonest type and could not believe he was agreeing to this.

"Alright, little pup, you have yourself a deal. I will keep you informed on the goings about of the court and how many people your father manages to piss off and you can keep Lord Stark off of the Lannister's back" He stated and saw as tension visibly seeped from her shoulders.

He eyed the girl carefully and saw how exhausted she looked at that moment and begun to reassess the situation again. Here was a child – not ten and one years old – whom was sitting in a room drenched in blood with her near dead younger brother, a dead body and an enemy, asking for his help because her father is not competent enough to deal with life in the Red Keep. From the conversation he heard earlier he also recalled her mentioning taking on her mother's duties and some of her fathers whilst the great Catlyn Stark wallowed in grief and the honourable Ned Stark drank and hunted with the king. He frowned as he took in just how exhausted and overrun the child was. Cersei would never allow this to happen to Joffrey, Myrcella or Tommen. In fact, she would be positively horrified if her children were in this situation. Heads would roll, he was certain. Yes, the Starks were honourable and wonderful and just about shat decency but it seems for all their standing they clearly did not know how to care for their daughter adequately. And this coming from a Lannister just about sums up how fucked up the situation truly is.

He tried not to feel pity or sympathy or anything that would cause him to do anything foolish.

"deal. I thank you for this Ser Jaime, I truly do" She said in a sincere tone dripping with gratitude. He gave her a smile and stood ready to leave this situation that was making him uncomfortable when he was reminded of the corpse laying upon the floor.

Seeing him staring at the body and wondering how they would conceal the situation, the girl stood and moved hastily to his side, "Oh, do not concern yourself with this Ser Jaime, I will find a way to dispose of the body and make sure to clean up every drop of blood lest anyone have questions. I can handle this" The girl said strongly reaching down to touch the body, making an odd twisting feeling erupt in his gut.

"No, Lady Sansa, I can take the corpse and you just worry about the blood. Do you wish for me to fetch a handmaiden on my way out?" He asked as he reached down and heaved the corpse over his shoulder.

"Oh no, no no I don't want any questions to be asked. There is a large basin, towels and rags here for when Bran is bathed, I will clear the mess myself. The less eyes and ear the better" She replied and moved to the opposite side of the room where he saw her bustling with various rags and buckets.

He cleared his throat and took one glance around the room again. It was mostly crimson as the man must have leaked all of his life blood into the small chamber. Pools, splatters and drops reaching everywhere and before he could think upon it, he strode towards to door.

"I see, I am certain I will see you before I depart Lady Sansa and we can discuss our arrangement more then. Good day, little pup" He said and sent her one last roguish grin than faltered seeing the child with a bucket and rag donning grim face.

Jaime Lannister exited the chamber and moved swiftly through the halls of Winterfell. He felt the usual excitement as he tried not to get caught. The halls were empty and a few times he had to hide in an alcove to avoid being seen. Blood seeped slowly onto his golden armour but fortunately did not drip onto the floors.

The usual excitement and glee he felt when doing something he shouldn't was not as high as it should have been – especially in Winterfell – as his mind kept drifting back to the child, mopping up pools of blood alone. A stab of guilt hit him before he shrugged it off, focusing on the many drafty halls of the castle.

Suddenly as he was about to turn a corner he almost ran into someone. The clatter of armour alerted him and the knight shifted the body on his shoulder swiftly in order to place his hand on his hilt in preparation.

The sight that greeted him was a pleasant surprise, "Ah Hound, I do not think I've ever been this pleased to see that face of yours" He announced in a cheery tone. The man in question grunted and sheathed his sword, looking at him mildly irritated and bored.

"What do you want Lannister?" He growled out, eyes not even straying to the corpse hanging over his body. Slow one, this hound but loyal and that's all that mattered.

Jaime Lannister heaved a sigh of relief at having companion to help him with his mission and who better suited.

"Well.. you see..." He began.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So it's been ages, I know. I keep getting stuck with this but I hope you enjoy this chapter. You have all spoken and I have listened. This will remain a Sansa-Tyrion fic. Although I listened it is mostly because I don't understand why there isn't more of these. Maybe because Tyrion is such a hard character to write. He is so incredibly awesome and unique he is really hard to capture. But I try my best. I love certain characters but is there anybody you want to see more of or for me to introduce? Let me know, I love to hear your thoughts.**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

It must have been hours she was mopping up blood. Sansa Stark had never truly appreciated just how long it and difficult it was to clean and soak up blood. Never once had she considered it when men were killed or wounded and thought of the poor servant tasked with some a heinous chore. Until now that is. Blood was very difficult to clean. It seemed to stain and only after copious amounts of scrubbing did the stain yield and the _stench_ , the high windows were wide open and she was frozen. Her hands had lost feeling some time ago and although the pools had been soaked and were gone there was a still long way ago. Her carefully thought out plan suddenly didn't seem so ingenious.

So intent upon her scrubbing did she not hear the chamber door knocking or it creek open hesitantly, so when a clatter sounded from the doorway she gasped in fright and jumped up suddenly.

There at the doorway, standing in open-mouthed horror was her brother Jon who held his sword out protectively and warily as he was unsure what to make of the situation.

She wobbled as she stood as her knee's and legs ached a little from the constant strain they had been under the past hours – idly wondering if this is how Tyrion always felt when standing – and decided she better take action.

"Jon, calm yourself, everything is alright. Come in quickly, shut the door and I'll explain" Sansa said hastily, growing concerned and eyeing the open door with trepidation.

Her brother instantly complied and shut the door over firmly before striding over to her with worry and alarm gleaming in his deep grey eyes. As he reached her he looked her over carefully, noting the blood and she could see his panic grow slightly.

"Relax Jon, none of the blood is mine. Not a scratch on me" She soothed but saw his alarm did not fade. He reached his hands out and awkwardly pat her to inspect for injuries, his sword still unsheathed.

"By the gods, what happened Sansa? Are you certain you are alright? How is Bran?" He queried, looking more and more puzzled. Her half-brother made his way to her unconscious brother and looked him over for injuries.

Once he was satisfied he turned to her, "What happened here?" He repeated his question again but this time more strongly.

Sansa sighed heavily before speaking, "There was an intruder, yes I am fine, Bran is fine, the body has been disposed of, for the love of gods please do not tell father or my Lady Mother" She finished pleading with a desperate look on her face.

Jon just stood there for a few moments looking quite stunned before nodding to himself.

"...I see and why should I not inform them?" He questioned, looking more curious and hesitant than alarmed, thank the gods.

She couldn't contain the small groan as she stretched her back, it truly had been a long and wearisome day, "It will cast suspicion upon our guests and you may not realise just how dangerous Kings Landing is but I have seen it" She emphasised pointedly looking at him as the stress and concern leaked into his eyes once more, "Father is in danger and must keep his wits about him, this was a stupid accident from a fanatical commoner and nothing more. Do you really want to cause a war, Jon? A war which thousands will die, be maimed, raped, land burned to ashes for the sake of this minor incident?" Sansa explained, her heart panging at the lie she told her brother. She never thought she would ever have to lie to her brother like this, she despised it but as much as she wanted to confess the truth she knew it would be unwise. Her duty was to protect the future, his future, the future of Westeros.

Sansa could see in his hesitant countenance and furrowed brow that he believed her but his sense of honour was waging within him, she mustn't forget how young Jon is, even if he is her older brother.

"I wouldn't exactly call this a minor incident" He muttered, stilling looking at the blood-stained floors.

She walked over to him, mindful of the blood and gave him an awkward embrace so to not stain his attire as well.

"Jon, I am sorry but having responsibility means making the right decision and not always the good one. The right thing for the north and our family would be not to say anything, I know that you know this, making the tough choices is a burden that leaders have to bare. You will learn this at the Wall" Sansa let a small bitter-sweet smile grace her face at this. This little speech was almost identical to one he had told her months before when she had to make an awful choice that cost lives. In the end, it saved a whole town but at the price of good, honourable men. It was tough, Tyrion had been out of the city at the time as he was the one to typically make the military based decisions between them and now she knew why. No one should have the power of life over death. But in the end, it needed to be done for the good of the realm. She had used the word duty before but could never fully comprehend it's meaning until then.

She could see the grave acceptance on his face that made him look like the older him and her heart broke just a little at this. He was already turning into the man he is destined to be. A good, brave, honourable northern man with the blood dragon and wolf flowing through his veins. All she desired at that moment was to shield him from everything he is destined to become.

"Sansa..." Jon whispered and her eyes shot to his face. He was looking at her with concern, pride, and love. Her eyes began to water.

"Sansa" He sighed and she moved towards him for a proper hug. She held onto him tightly, imagining if she did so then his innocence would remain. Sansa imagined this is what having a child would be like and sending them off to war, knowing they would never be the same upon return.

"Father would be so proud of you. I wish I could be as strong as you" He whispered into her hair, a very rare but heartfelt comment making her smile through dampened eyes.

She pulled back to look into his handsome but young face, "You will be Jon, you will be" She then smiled at him and he smiled back warmly, making his whole face soften and relax. Many women would say that the northern features were too harsh and unyielding but Jon's smile was as welcoming as a glass of spiced wine on a winters night.

"Now do you need any assistance?" Jon asked, looking around at the room, eyes lingering on the blood stains.

Her whole body sagged in relief.

* * *

It was after supper that she had an audience with her father.

Sansa sat in his study, besides the hearth with a glass of water and some leftovers, eating them with gusto as she had not eaten since breaking her fast.

"I did not know you were quite so hungry, have you been over working yourself?" Came the strong voice of her father from behind her. She started a little in her seat stood swiftly, clearing her throat and smoothing her dress.

"Excuse me father, I did not mean to-" She began, face burning in humiliation. This was not how a young lady behaved. Dammed Tyrion and his unrefined ways rubbing off on her.

"Nonsense Sansa, I am only your father. I can see that stress must be getting to you. I have not seen you eat with so little manners since you were a babe stuffing lemon cakes into your mouth" Her father moved to sit beside her with a fond smile upon his weary-looking face.

She smiled back despite herself and sat back down, "I surely did not act so uncouth" She answered in mock horror. Her father let out a chuckle at this.

"I am afraid so. I believe it was Robb who stole the cakes to appease you as he splattered mud on your favourite little gown" He answered back.

She wished she could remember this but smiled happily at the memory. Sansa then reached over for more bread and cheese but nibbled daintily this time.

"I shall be leaving to go south in four days time" The Lord of Winterfell said in his usual solemn tone. She swallowed heavily.

"I see. Do you recall everything I have told you?" She asks, managing to keep her voice steady.

"Yes, Sansa I have taken into account all of your council" He replied back, staring into the flames with a contemplative look on his face.

"Will you be dismissing Lord Baelish as Master of Coin?" She inquired, hoping to the new and old gods he saw sense.

"Of course I will, as soon as I reach the capital I intend to have him arrested for the murder of Jon Arryn and send for Lysa Arryn to be escorted to Kings Landing for questioning" He answered back darkly.

Sansa looked at her father for a moment before blurting out, "You must be jesting" and searched his face for anything to show he was not being serious.

Her father turned to look at her with a frown, "Lord Baelish will pay for his crimes against Jon Arryn as will his wife" He finished seriously and Sansa had to take a moment to compose herself.

"Father... that... is so unbelievably foolish" she finished and her father was looking more frustrated by the second.

"Sansa, Lord Baelish conspired to commit treason against the hand of the king and Lady Arryn killed her husband. They cannot get away with this" He said seriously.

Sansa thought of how to explain this to her very honourable father, "Yes, I do. I understand much better than you do the monstrosities that man is capable of. However, upon your arrival at Kings Landing, you cannot simply arrest the Master of Coin and accuse him of an assassination and have the lady of a great house brought in for questioning. There will be no proof, grand Maester Pycelle announced his cause of death to be natural even if he knows this is not the case. He foolishly believes it was the Lannisters and you should be aware that he is loyal to the queen. There is no way to establish it was murder, no evidence against them aside from me and will you have me stand before the whole Kingdom and announce that I have magical dreams and simply 'know' this to be true. Most importantly, there is no motive. Why would he kill the Hand? What reason? You trust my word but the entire south will not and do you really wish to start a war? Unless we have irrefutable evidence then war will come" She finished explaining to him and hoped he would see sense. Sansa loved her father, she truly did but a big part of her was starting to regret giving him information. Perhaps she should have accompanied him south and prevented him from learning the truth and simply behaved like the foolish child she once was.

Her father was watching her carefully and she could not read the expression on his face, "Sansa, we cannot allow them to get away with treason" His voice was strong and unyielding. It was the voice of the Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and she knew this meant he was using the stubborn Stark Steel her husband often complained about in jest.

"I am aware of that and I believe they should and will pay for their crimes. The first thing we must do is find indisputable evidence against them and in order to do that we must work carefully to not make enemies in the meantime" She explained patiently, Sansa imagined this is how Littlefinger felt when tutoring her to play the game and manipulating her to his chosen outcome. It made her feel ill to think such a thing.

Her father blew out a breath and rubbed in between his brows, "I see and do you have a plan to do this? The longer I wait, the more difficult it will become" Sansa detected a hint of weariness in his tone. She wished he did not need to play at all.

"In order to gain the evidence against Aunt Lysa, the first thing to do is to lure her out of the Eyrie. She is surrounded by loyal bannermen and hidden within an impenetrable fortress. I will work on this. The best course of action with Lord Baelish is to become his ally... allow him to think that he is controlling you and that you trust him because of his previous association with Mother. Tell him simple things to allow him to believe that you confide in him but under no circumstances allow him to turn you against the Lannisters. Let him keep his position and power for the moment but let him believe that you are weak and eventually we will find some evidence to charge him, if not for the murder of Lord Arryn then something else that will be proof of his character so these charges will not be so abrupt. You may cause him a little grief by demanding a payment plan for the Iron Bank and other houses the Crown has lent to. Give him the responsibility to fix the horrible debt that he has amassed. I will keep in contract through Raven and you can keep me updated on the state of affairs but as I previously mentioned, Grand Maester Pycelle is in the service of the Lannisters so any message you send may be spied upon" Sansa finished her advice and sent a mental prayer to the gods.

Her father did not look pleased by her advice. Not at all, "You expect me to befriend this murderer? This man that you yourself told me of his crime. To allow him to walk free for perhaps years whilst I hope some form of evidence will arise or we will find something to accuse him of, all the while speaking to the man every day and asking for his council? You truly as this of me?"

Sansa Stark had never seen her father look so incredulous before. She had never seen him look so... intimidating. It did not faze her as her skin has most definitely thickened being the best friend of the mother of dragons but it still unsettled her a little. His surprise and displeasure was obvious but the disappointment and clear struggle he had within himself at her sudden attitude is what bothered her the most. She knew Ned Stark, her father. He was wondering when his daughter became so... dishonourable. Sansa looked away for the eyes of her father and stared at the ground. Her stomach was ill and shame seemed to be bubbling inside of her uncontrollably. Never before had she felt so ashamed and wished to be like her father: unquestionably honourable and good but she couldn't. Her kin and loved ones wouldn't survive if she did not play this role and do it well. It was necessary. She was sullying herself but doing so willingly. For the good of the Realm. For her family. For Dany and Tyrion.

That last thought allowed her to compartmentalise the unpleasant feelings and look up again. Her Father's face was expressionless but was carefully watching her.

She bravely explained, "Yes. I am asking this of you. Not because I want you to do this. But because this is needed for justice to be served. For the realm to stay at peace. For our family to stay alive and our house prosperous. It makes me ill to think of that man walking free and not confined to the black cells but we need to act wisely and properly. The south is not like the north and loyalty and honour are very different things. I wish I didn't have to ask this of you, father, I pray to the gods that I didn't but I am. Not for you or I but for everyone. Please father. I cannot watch as my family die one by one" Sansa spoke in her Lady Lannister voice to show she was deadly serious. Her father continued to watch her but his eyes were pained and sorrow filled.

He looked away and remained silent for a very long time.

The shame did not lessen, nor her guilt but she also felt as much determination thinking of her husband and best friend. They needed her also, more than she needed her fathers approval.

Sansa kept eye contact, ignored the racing of her heart and concentrated on not fiddling with her gown. What her father said next was not at all what she expected.

"I find it very difficult to believe this new found wisdom and attitude comes from greendreams. You were never interested in those stories as a child but I was. You seem to have very specific information about particular people and of their character. Greendreams foretell of events but not their cause or those involved" Lord Stark's voice was solemn as he spoke.

It felt like her heart had frozen in ice.

Lord Stark continued, "However, I will allow you to keep your secrets, Sansa. I will not lie, your new attitude and perspective troubles me greatly. You are cunning and more informed than I can even imagine. I don't know how you have changed so much in so little time Sansa. Your are an entirely different person" His voice was strong and steady as he said this and Sansa battled with the shame that threatened to eat her alive.

He turned to look at her and to her great surprise, it was love, sorrow, affection and pain on his face, "Despite all my uncertainties, I do know that you are my daughter. A true Stark and Tully. I know not why you have chosen give falsehoods to me but I trust you Sansa. You are my daughter and I know you are trying to do what is best. You will make a great Lady one day but you will most definitely be stronger than your husband could ever hope to be. I will do as you say and trust you" He finished and Sansa could not believe it. She was choked up and was silent as she struggled for words.

Lord Stark then sighed deeply and rubbed his face.

"What else concerns you father?" Sansa asked hoping to change to the subject before she began weeping again. It seemed all she did in this new world was weep. Or old world, the semantics were enough to drive her mad. Sansa took a sip from her water to clear away the emotion lodged in her throat.

He remained silent.

The eldest Stark girl turned to give her father a curious look as to why he was not answering her question.

Lord Stark noticed the implied question in her gaze, "I do not wish to burden you with such things. You are so young and with all of the added duties on your plate, you have enough to concern yourself with. You are strong but I will handle this" He said with a softer tone than before, it was a minor difference but one she could note.

She held back the eye roll but couldn't the fond smile.

"Father" She began in a light tone, making him look at her in surprise, "I understand your wish to protect me. I do. But winter is coming, for all of us. Mother is too distraught to be of any use at the moment, Robb too inexperienced, you will gain no help for His Grace and unburdening yourself to me is hardly too much. I relish sitting here, stuffing my face and spending some time with you before you depart. You will need your wits about you when you go south, so please, I want to ease your mind. It is my duty also to help the family father as much as it is yours" She finished her speech by giving him a smile and swore she saw his eyes water a little as he looked away.

It was only a beat before he spoke again, "I see. The King intends to declare the Kingslayer Warden of the East, a title which should not be given to a member of the Kingsguard nor does that man deserve such an honour. Robert well... he is not the man he used to be" He finished, sounding more sullen than usual.

Sansa was silent for a few long moments thinking her words carefully, "I see. Well for the first issue I believe that you could convince His Grace to give Yohn Royce the title of Warden of the East. The Royce's are a respected family in the Vale not to mention loyal to the Arryns. Lord Royce is experienced enough to be a good stand in until Robert Arryn is ready to take on the title..." She began and saw the defeat in her father's face already, knowing the king would not go for this "You could suggest a tourney to the King as to make him agree, the honour of Warden of the East given temporarily to the Royce's and Jon's son will be in attendance and given to Lord Stannis to be fostered. The boy must be fostered father, that is essential. You can even host the Tourney at Riverrun, Aunt Lysa and Bryden Tully can be in attendance as well as myself and mother will come visit of course" Sansa finished and praised herself for her quick thinking. She knew that her maternal grandfather will be gone in nought but a years time. Sansa wanted to give her mother closure and her great uncle time to repair the bonds with his brother.

She had only met her Great Uncle of a few occasions grew very fond of him quickly. He was a strong, honourable man who was very loyal to his kin. The first occasion she had met him was after Dany had taken Kings Landing and her marriage to Tyrion consummated to keep the peace between the North and West. Although pleased with the outcome, her great-uncle road to Kings Landing to offer her an escape and refuge should she wish it. Although undoubtedly foolish to go against the queen's decree facing against three dragons, she admired and respected his honour and loyalty to someone of his blood he had never known. At first, she was indignant, citing why had the man not helped her before now and informing him of all of the torture and abuse she had been through in her short life. His heartbroken and anguished face as she recounted her tale was enough to earn his forgiveness. Ser Bryden Tully was a good man. A good man who could not comprehend treating a young Lady – even a war prisoner – so atrociously. He was honestly in shock at the depravity of the Lannisters - and more importantly Peter Baelish - although he stated he should have known better after the Red Wedding. She could see her great-uncle really blaming himself for not stopping Littlefinger or simply knowing better, knowing what he was capable of. Sansa did not blame him. Lord Baelish was crafty and spun beautiful webs full of lies and deceit.

After her initial meeting, Ser Bryden had stayed in Kings Landing to ensure she was comfortable and happy, going as far as to threaten to maim and castrate her husband if he ever heard her utter a grievance against him. Sansa had, of course, apologised profusely to her husband at this comment but Tyrion had only laughed heartily and stated, "the man certainly has balls to make such a threat to the hand of the queen, knowing he could be fried to a crisp. I respect that" Earning him a reproachful look and smile for his comment.

Knowing how useful an ally and wanting a better relationship with the man, Sansa was hoping to lure him to Winterfell. She just had to figure out how.

Meanwhile, her father nodded at her suggestion looking quite satisfied but troubled, "I will take into account your suggestion. To think, in order to convince Robert to do what is best for the Realm – His realm – I must bribe him with a tourney" Her father shook his head in dismay.

She gave him a sad smile, "I am sorry father, I know King Robert is not the man you once knew. Wearing a crown changes you and from what I can tell from his character, Robert Baratheon was never one to wear a crown" Her father frowned at this so she elaborated, "I mean no offence but he seems more like the man to lead you into battle than to lead a country, he is a man of action, not political ploys and hard decisions. Years of being in a role that is not right for him has obviously wore down on him. The man you know is still in there but buried deep down. You may never see him again" She finished. The young red-headed girl knew that she was biased towards the current king. After referring to him as a The Usurper King for the last years it was difficult not to.

Her father still looked troubled and disappointed but nodded his head in agreement, "Yes, Robert was never really one for Lordly duties, he was always more interested in sparring practice and the glory of it all. Fighting in the war, commanding men, riding into battle with his hammer and his horse, wielding the power of a true king. He was never one for responsibilities but I believed he would do his duty to Westeros" He finished staring into the flames.

Sansa did not know what to say. She had no idea the best way to comfort the Lord of Winterfell. There really was no way. He had to accept this new Robert Baratheon and not be fooled by believing him to be the man he used to be. Uncertain how to proceed she changed the subject,

"Is there any word from Greywatch or Tarth?" She enquired, hoping for some good news.

Her father seemed to come back to himself, "Yes, Howland Reed has agreed to send his two children north to be fostered, they should arrive within two moons time. No word from Tarth as of yet I'm afraid, but it has only been a few days and Raven's do not fly that fast" Her father reassured her. She nodded, still a little worried. Sansa really wanted Brienne here to teach her and Arya how to wield a sword and to be at Winterfell to protect her family.

Brienne had become something of a sister to her in Kings Landing. Spending years searching for her to fulfil an oath made to her dead mother and remaining loyal throughout it all was truly astonishing. She was the woman who managed to help Ser Jaime Lannister – The Kingslayer himself – find his honour. Brieanne was a remarkable woman and a fierce fighter. Her sworn shield and confidant, the pair had grown close. Dany respected Brienne for being a strong and willful woman that defied the expected behaviour for Lady's - as she herself did by ruling without a King at her side - but they had never gotten very close. It was most likely because although honourable and kind, Brieanne was not a very sociable person. Sansa prayed to the gods to see her again.

"I see. There is not much more I can say. Have you got anyone in mind for Master of Coin after we find enough evidence to convict Lord Baelish?" Sansa questioned, hoping by mentioning this will assure her father's compliance by reminding him justice will be served.

Her father sighed, sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I'm afraid I do not know who I can trust and no one I do trust is suitable for such a role"

At this explanation, she had to wince. Oh dear gods, just the thought of who her father may appoint was terrifying.

"Might I make another suggestion?" She said hesitantly, knowing this would be asking a lot.

Lord Stark let out a huff of laughter, "of course you may, I feel I rely too heavily on your council and wonder if I am making a grave mistake entrusting important political decisions to my ten and one-year-old daughter" he said wearily but a little amusedly.

She shot him a stern look, "Young I may be but wiser than most of the fools in Kings Landing" she stated factually, earning her an amused look, "my suggestion is not one you will like but politically it is an excellent decision..." She began slowly and seeing the expectant but patient look on her father's face continued, "I believe that The Master of Coin should be given to someone whom our enemies will least expect... for there is always enemies within the Vipers nest seeking to bring you down. An unexpected ally is always useful and by making decisions that others will not expect of you, will most definitely give you a keen edge. Being predictable is as dangerous as a sword hanging over your head" She explained to him, much like how Littlefinger had told her of the subtle political nuances she would never have known. The thought made her stomach churn with bile.

Her father frowned and stared into the flames before looking up at her, "I see. You are correct in assuming that I am not suited for the politics of court but your southern blood helps you see things I cannot. However, your speech is rather troubling Sansa, for I know whomever you will suggest will not be someone I will trust on the small council. Now, who do you believe can be entrusted with the title Master of Coin?" Her father looked to be preparing for the worst and she didn't blame it for it will be difficult for him to accept.

"I believe that you should give the Master of Coin position to... Tyrion Lannister" She said in a confident voice that did not reflect her anxiety inside.

Lord Stark's frown deepened and his deep gray eyes bore into hers without emotion.

It would be a long night.

* * *

The moon was high in the sky when she left her father's solar. He was exhausted but writing parchment upon parchments of correspondence, instructions and last minute details that was necessary before the left home. Sansa was still worried about his fate in the south, especially without her and Arya but bitterly she thought he may be better off without them. He only had to worry about his own skin. She prayed it would be enough.

Making her way swiftly through the drafty halls she heard footsteps closing in on her quickly. It was a quick patter of someone running and Sansa was immediately on alert. She ducked into an alcove and waited, heart pounding and wishing she had taken her father's offer for a guard to escort her.

Heavy breathing echoed down the hall.

The dim glow of torches lit up a small figure as it raced with surprising speed. It was small, dark and dirty.

 _Arya._

Sansa stepped out of the shadows only for her sister to crash into her.

" _Ooomph"_ Arya exclaimed as she took her sister down. Sansa had the wind knocked out of her and took a moment to respond.

"Get off me!" Arya shouted and leapt up to her feet, scowling down at her. Sansa groaned in an unladylike manner and felt the dirt now caking her gown, clinging to her skin.

"Hello to you to Arya" She said quietly, still a little out of breath.

"What are _you_ doing out so late? Don't _lady's_ have a curfew" She scowled, her voice a little raspy. Sansa stood shakily as she took her younger sister in. Arya was dirty. More dirty than she typically was. Mud caked half of her face and small body. There was telling thin lines of cleanliness running down the sides of her cheeks, however. Sansa was not pleased at all.

She replied to her sister, "Not at all, if we did then neither of us would be out at this hour now would we?" She tried to smile to her sister but she was not even gazing in her direction.

Arya did not say anything but wiped at her face a little with equally dirty hands.

Sansa sighed and tried a different tactic. She would repair her relationship with her sister if it killed her, "Would you like to tell me whom dirtied you and made you upset?" She said softly, fully prepared to rip the throat out of the cretin that did this to her blood.

Arya scoffed, "I'm not _upset._ Why, are you _upset_ about your stupid gown?"

Sansa felt her patience being tried, "Arya look at me" She said. Nothing, "Or are you afraid to?" She challenged. At this, her sister immediately looked up. Sansa smiled, "Look" She gestured to her gown, "This is a silly dress and means nothing to me. What does matter to me is whom upset my little sister and why she is covered in mud" She repeated, hoping to the old gods she got through.

Arya eyed her suspiciously and looked at the state of her once pretty dress. Sansa ripped the hem of it to prove a point. The loud tearing sound seemed inordinately loud in the quiet corridor.

Arya's lips lifted a little bit, "Why do you even care Sansa? I'm always covered in mud. I belong in the stables don't I?" The bitterness and suspicion had not disappeared but was much obvious in her tone. This appeared to be more of a test than an accusation. Sansa winced in shame at the comment. No doubt this was a reference to the nickname, 'Arya Horseface'. Gods, Sansa was a terrible sister. But by the gods, she had a chance to fix it and nothing would stop her.

"...Arya, we've both said some pretty awful things about each other. I know you think that I am a stupid, air-headed and boring Lady and I have said some truly awful things to you in the past but I hope we can forget all about it. We are the only Stark girls and we need to stick together. We are never going to be best friends and we don't have much in common but if I can accept you would rather wield a sword and ride a horse than can you accept that I want to sew, read fairytales and gush about knights all day?" Sansa hoped this would be enough. Arya was just looking at her suspiciously and frowning.

"We will never have much in common but... we're sisters and wolves. Wolves have a pack and your my pack. I don't want us to be enemies. I don't care if your not a perfect Lady and I hope you don't care that I _am_ a silly Lady. Your my sister and I love you" Sansa smiled at her younger sister, hoping for anything.

Arya continued frowning but saw the logic and honesty in her voice. She always was the smart one of the two. It was obvious when she came to some kind of a decision. The young girl squared her shoulders and looked at her head on. It was disconcerting and amusing how the Stark stare could be conveyed at such a young age, "Maybe. Don't you care who pushed me in the mud? It was your _precious_ Prince Joffery" Arya informed her.

Sansa was not surprised. Horrified, disgusted, filled with enough icy rage to freeze the south but surprised? No. Joffery was, in her husband's words, 'a little shit' and even without power, he would still act like a bastard.

Her sister was clearly testing her. It was a smart thing to do, very smart. Arya was a lot shrewder than she ever gave her credit for. It made her proud, "I shouldn't be surprised. He is a bit of a cretin isn't he?" She said mischievously. Arya's eyes widened and so did Sansa's grin, "What do you say that we teach him a little lesson?" She was beaming now. Arya seemed excited but was trying to appear aloof.

"Like what?" She said skeptically.

Sansa gave her sister a sly look and said, "Follow me"

The Stark girls made their way quietly through the halls of the great castle of Winterfell. It was mostly empty aside for the occasional patrolling guard. They were both small and could both easily fit into an alcove undetected in the situation demanded it.

They were sneaking when they saw a flickering light coming towards them, "Sansa, quick" Her sister whispered and tugged on her sleeve.

They both dived into an alcove at the last minute, keeping their breathing quiet. They were crouched and face to face, staring at each other with wide eyes in slight panic.

"...I'm telling ya, there's mud tracks all 'round the castle, someone musta' snuck in" A voice protested loudly.

They heard a sigh.

"That's enough, I think you've had too much to drink. Mud gets tracked in, it happens, probably a stable boy going to bed or a guest getting lost. Drop it" Jory's voice sounded tired.

There was a shuffle, "Naw, I'm _telling_ ya, there's something sneaking about! Ghost, ghouls, unnatural creatures up this side of the world!" The voice slurred a little.

Arya and Sansa were grinning at each other.

"Tam, enough. Go to bed" The voice sounded stern and they heard someone start walking again.

More shuffling and the footsteps drifted further away, "Naw, I'm no gonna' to tae fuckin' bed till ah find oot wit kinda' bloody monsters are roaming around these bloody halls. Maybe it's an assassin here tae kill the king!" The voice protested loudly. There was a barely there sigh coming from way down the hall.

Arya and Sansa were looking at each other in glee. Sansa drew her finger to her lips and let out a soft, "awooooo" It echoed very lightly down the hall.

"DID YE HEAR THAT. WOLVES. BLOODY WOLVES. THE FUCK IS WRONG WAE YOU NORTHERNERS. WOLVES. WOLVEEESS" He screamed as they heard the voice drift further in further away and footsteps slapped quickly against the stone floors.

The Stark girls burst into laughter. They were laughing till their sides hurt and tears fell from their eyes. Each time they made eye contact with their sister they continued giggling. They tried to muffle it by covering their mouths with their hands but to no avail.

Eventually, they emerged from the hidden corner with grins on their faces and much more at ease with each other. Arya seemed to have accepted her for the moment, "So what's your plan? Going to tell on him to father?" She smirked at the elder girl.

Sansa scoffed, "No I have something much better in mind" To Arya's surprise, she was led to the stables. She peered around the room and wondered if her sister just got lost.

"Arya" Her sister whispered, not that it was needed as the stables were emptied at this time of night. Only the horses who's dark eyes watched them curiously. She wandered over to the red head. Sansa was holding a shovel.

Arya raised her eyebrows, "Uh, you want to bash his head in?" She asked a little hopefully. The spoiled Prince deserved it.

Sansa rolled her eyes - another shock to Arya - and huffed, "No, of course not. Follow my lead" Was all she said.

Arya watched her sister. She moved towards the end of a stall and opened it cautiously. Sansa had been acting weird. Very weird. Her sister's behaviour had been very strange since just before the King's visit. She moved with more confidence and less like a hot poker was shoved up her arse. She was kind and silly, not stiff and judgemental. Sansa had changed but Arya didn't know what happened. At first, she thought it was like before when Sansa and her friends would be nice to her and want to play only to mock and laugh at her behind her back. Well, she wasn't going to be stupid and fall for it again. But this time it was different. She stuck up for her and didn't look at her like she was an embarrassment and actually was _nice_ to her. Not like, _Lady_ nice but real nice. Then tonight. Her sister was actually acting kind of fun and not a stiff rule follower. She was certain that Sansa would have told on her immediately but was hoping to make a deal that neither would mention this to Mother or Septa Mordane so neither of them would get into trouble. But Sansa surprised her again.

Arya thought maybe she was dreaming. Sansa. Sansa Stark. _Lady_ Sansa Stark started shovelling shit into a sack. Arya blinked. No. It was still happening. A slow grin spread across the young girls face. She was starting to like the new Sansa...

"What do you think about paying dear Joffrey back with a little manure to the face?" the beautiful girl turned to grin wickedly to her sister.

 _...Really_ like the new Sansa.

It was not difficult to find Joffrey. He was where she had left him. They Stark sisters hid behind a wall watching their prey. They were wolves on the prowl. A pack hunting down a common enemy. The prince sat laughing loudly with a few peons around a fire. They were outside curiously, obviously freezing judging by their overabundance of furs and misty breaths permeating the air around them.

It was on the way back from swishing sticks around the Godswood that she ran into him. He didn't recognise her at first but started to boss her around until the Hound identified her. From there the mocking got worse.

 _'You're a_ Lady _? I didn't think you were even a girl, never mind a_ Lady! _You look more like a stable boy, here' He shoved her down 'now that's perfect'_

Arya was about to rip his throat out as the men around the fire laughed. The Hound stepped in front of her with a scowl that said, 'do it and I'll run you through' So she ran away defeated and boiling with rage.

Now was time for her revenge.

Fortunetly, they were seated near one of the lower walls with a passage above that was used for guards to patrol. Arya jabbed her sister and nodded to the wall in request. She nodded back. They snuck deftly up the passage to see it was empty and it was unlikely anyone would patrol tonight. Men were too tired and probably resting for the long journey south. They then crept up and peered over the wall. Joffery - lazy arse that he was - was seated at the head of the fire and leaned against the wall.

The Stark girls grinned predatorily at each other.

Arya reached into the bag and was too excited and gleeful to even be surprised that Sansa did the same without hesitance, "On the count of three" She whispered to her new partner in crime.

"One" Sansa began.

"Two" Arya continued.

"Three" They said together and dropped the first barrage of attack.

 _"AHHHHHHHHH"_ An effeminate voice sounded. The girls ducked under the wall and were sniggering quietly to themselves, " _What is this? Is this SHIT, WHAT THE"_ Joffrey's voice continued to screech and the girls continued to laugh.

With a proud smile, Arya dropped the rest of the bag promptly on top of the golden Prince's head.

Nothing had ever felt better.

" _AHHHH Hound! Hound! DO SOMETHING! SOMEONE IS ATTACKING YOUR PRINCE"_ The voice wailed and sounded close to tears. They continued laughing hysterically, attempting to do so quietly. The men around the fire were too disorientated to do anything but all too soon they heard the clamour of heavy armour rush up the steps they had risen. Arya looked towards her sister in horror.

Sansa did not look afraid but determined, "Go Arya" She whispered harshly. She simply blinked at her sister in confusion.

 _"Now, go"_ Sansa hissed and shoved Arya with surprising strength. She immediately complied with her sister's demand and ran like she'd never ran before. Arya darted and sprinted through the empty halls of Winterfell, the only sound was her panting breaths and racing heart. Where was she going? What about Sansa? Arya had never felt so confused in her life. What was she do to? Go tell father? _She couldn't._ Jon perhaps? Yes, Jon that's what she would do. She ran in the direction of his rooms, Oh gods, what would the Hound do to her sister? Arya knew Jon would tell father. She wasn't stupid. But she needed to tell someone, right? But what would Jon do anyway against the _bloody Hound!_ Oh gods, she had left her sister to him! Changing course, she made her way to her sisters chambers.

Sneaking inside, she started a fire and paced anxiously around the room. Should she tell someone? What good would it do at this point? He had probably already killed her. He would have! That disgusting _dog_ had probably run her sister through by now and what did Arya do? She ran. She _ran_ like a bloody craven. She was no craven. Arya had abandoned her sister to that monster all alone. What kind of a wolf was she to desert her pack like that? An awful one. Arya slumped on the wall, ignoring the panic tightening her chest. The young girl had never felt so ashamed in her life. Arya knew shame. She felt it when she looked in the mirror to see her ugly mug and the disappointed looks her Lady mother would give her. But Arya kept her head held high. She was no Lady but she was a wolf. She was smart and brave. Only she wasn't. Her actions proved that tonight.

She had left her sister to face the Hound on her own.

What was Sansa even doing anyway? This was not like her. She was only there because of her. Sansa was just trying to Avenge her. The youngest Stark girl sniffled. Sansa didn't even _like_ her but she was ready to get revenge on those that wronged her. Arya once thought that Sansa was her biggest enemy. She always made Arya look bad in comparison. She was always so bloody _perfect._ But it wasn't a competition. They had other opponents. Arya didn't care if Sansa called her horseface again, she just wanted to sister to be alright.

The chamber door opened. Arya's head swung swiftly over, for one frantic moment wondering if it was The Hound here to finish her off. It was Sansa.

 _Sansa._ Arya darted over and threw herself at her sister, smelling the shit coming from the both of them but not caring, "YOU IDIOT" She shouted. Sansa just chuckled back and hugged her.

"A thank you would be more appropriate" She said in a light tone. Arya stepped back and walloped her sister on the arm.

"You bloody idiot. What did you do that for? Taking on the Hound? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you. You are stupid. So bloody stupid. I can't believe I just left you like that. How did you even get away?" Arya lowered her voice but sounded just as harsh.

Sansa shook her head, "Relax, I took care of it" was all the explanation she got.

Arya scowled, "The fuck does that even mean? How did you take on the Hound?" Arya's eyes trailed her sisters form for blood and in a little awe. Sansa was way more than she thought she was.

Sansa laughed heartily, "No, now your the one being stupid! Me? Take on the Hound? No, I talked to him quite reasonably, used a little bit of sweet talk and managed to worm us out of it. He won't say anything to Prince Joffrey" She said confidently.

Arya's nose wrinkled and repeated, "Sweet talk?" Her voice sure to show how nauseating that thought was.

Sansa giggled, "A little and a little threat. I told you, I took care of it. Some battles are won with swords and some with words. He's a dog but not an idiot. He realised it would be best for everyone if this was an unfortunate accident"

Arya frowned and considered her sisters words for a moment, "Your still an idiot" She repeated. The dark haired Stark girl relaxed a little at the assurances. Sansa was better with words and people. She would know the right thing to say, if Arya was there she would have told him how Joffrey deserved it and it wouldn't have helped. Maybe Sansa wasn't a _complete_ idiot, sometimes.

Sansa just smiled, her natural beauty shining through the dirt and smell of shit, "I think we had better get cleaned up before sunrise or we won't get away with anything. You should probably just stay the night. I'll get the soap and rags, you heat the water" Her sister commanded and for once in her life, Arya did as she was told without comment.

* * *

Ned Stark was exhausted. He had very little sleep and the little he did was fitful. Even now, awake later than usual still felt like the crack of dawn to him. He yawned as he made his way to his eldest daughters chambers. She should have awakened by now and is being tended to by her handmaidens. He would need to interrupt her routine for a moment before breaking his fast to speak with her. He feared that this would be his only opportunity to do so this day and time could not be wasted.

As he approached the door he frowned. Her handmaidens were not inside but outside the room and talking quietly to themselves. He cleared his throat, "Ladies" He made his greeting into something of an inquiry.

The handmaidens immediately bowed and greeted him with 'Lord Starks' but he did not care for pleasantries and wanted to know why they were not doing their duties.

"My Lord, I am afraid there has been something of a... difference in routine this morning and we weren't sure exactly how to proceed" It was the younger of the two who looked nervous and unsure, clearly afraid of a reprimand. He frowned deeper, this did not tell him anything and he had no patience this morning.

The older Lady did not look disturbed but was smiling softly, "It is best you see for yourself My Lord" She explained and opened to door. He made his way inside, expecting the worse. Were her dreams ailing her? Perhaps it was the burden, mayhaps he should speak with Luwin. When his eyes reached the bed he froze.

There, curled under furs and pillows was Sansa sleeping softly. That was not what surprised him but it was his other daughter entangled with her sister that surprised him. His girls were all smiles and messy hair as they sprawled across the large bed in slumber.

Ned spent a few long moments watching the peaceful rise and fall of his two girls. He felt his tension seep from his shoulders and a warm smile spread his face.

He felt the older of the handmaidens approach his side, he informed her, "I think it best if we let them sleep for today. I will inform Septa Mordane, just make sure they are properly rested. These last few days must have been quite stressful" He said very quietly in a gentle tone that most wouldn't believe possible from the ominous Lord of Winterfell.

"Of course My Lord" She replied.

Lord Stark quietly exited his daughter's room with the smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. As he wandered the halls his mind drifted to the impossible tasks and unthanked duties that awaited him down south.

 _'If those two can find common ground and behave as family then I suppose anything's possible'_ Was his last thought before entering the great hall to begin his duties.


	10. Chapter 10

Tyrion was growing weary of the north. The men looked at him with more than their usual brand of distaste and revulsion, there was always a cold wind blowing, the whores were unextraordinary and most importantly, the wine was not plentiful. Good quality whores and an excess of wine was apparently not a priority in the Honourable Ned Stark's mind. Tyrion snorted into his goblet at the thought. Not that he should have assumed it would be. Fortunately, the king was also growing restless in the North and wished to return south as soon as possible. _'Thank the gods_ ' Tyrion thought as he basked in the warm embers of the hearth, inside his private chambers.

Tyrion, however, would not be returning south for the moment. No, he had planned to ride north in order to visit the Wall. It truly was an outstanding piece of architecture and worth visiting once in his lifetime. With a small contingent of men travelling to join the Nights Watch, now was a perfect opportunity for him. He severely doubted he would ever venture to this end of the Realm again, especially with the years of winter yet to arrive.

Ned Stark's bastard would be joining the Night Watch. It was unsurprising really but still noteworthy all the same. The fact that the honourable Lord of Winterfell himself would sire a bastard was noteworthy on its own. A few Lannister men would even be joining him. Not out of want or concern but a twisted sense of loyalty to his malevolent father. ' _The story of my life_ ' He thought bitterly.

Either way, it was a good opportunity and hopefully an interesting journey where many old tomes he had yet to have his hands on will be found. Not that he held onto the hope that the Watch of rapists and bastards to have many a thought provoking book but you could never be certain. He had thought the same of the North and yet had discovered a hidden Jem in its otherwise standard collection of uninteresting histories and fables of the North.

Well, he did not discover said book but it was recommended by a rather perplexing young Lady. _Sansa Stark_ , a beautiful name for an undoubtedly beautiful girl. He had to remind himself repeatedly not to ponder the girl but found it difficult. She was a conundrum. In a world of predictable, power hungry proud nobles, she stood out as bright as a drop of blood in a blanket of snow. The girl seemed earnest and honourable but she was still young yet. Perhaps he should not be surprised Stark had raised such an honest daughter. Tyrion frowned and swirled his wine in his goblet for a few moments before downing it. No, even for a Stark she was still unique.

Tyrion had never considered himself to be a fool, many other things perhaps, but never a fool. Until now that is. He was foolish for becoming so fascinated by a young girl and pondering her character. Is this how Robert Baratheon felt when he met the young Lyanna Stark? If the girl is anything like her Aunt then he understood a great deal better how an entire dynasty and Kingdom fell for one woman. But this situation is different, he decided. Far different. For that was about love and not simply curiosity. A mild obsession perhaps but not love. Tyrion poured himself another goblet of Arbour gold and drank deeply, imagining himself to be as wretched as a child molester in lusting after the girl. No, he did not lust after her. Tyrions mind couldn't help but wander to Sansa Stark and picturing her angelic features, obvious beauty and welcoming smile. He coughed as he drank again from his wine. No, admiring her visually is not lusting. If one thing he knew and knew well was lust and he did not lust after her. She was a just a girl, with the face of an angel but still had a childs body. Just on the cusp of womanhood, he mused. It was fortunate he did not visit Winterfell a few years later or he might have been really foolish and become besotted with the girl.

Tyrion laughed mirthlessly at the thought.

Considering this for a moment, he shook his head, feeling a slight haze from the wine. No, if it was a few years down the line the girl would have changed. She was still a child – an innocent and hopeful young Lady who saw the good in everyone. A year from now and she would be as cynical and critical as the rest of the women in court who eyed him in contempt as he waddled by. Lady Sansa would know what a man is supposed to look like and know for certain the extent of his inadequacies.

It was a rather sobering thought that the wonderful young Lady he had just met would grow out of that which stood her apart but knew it to be truth. Children are good and kind but soon learn the ways of nobility and judgement. It will be the same for the Stark girl.

Tyrion did not drink anymore wine, but rather, slumped clumsily in his padded chair beside the fire and let his troubled mind drift to more pleasant topics.

His mind was pulled out of its wanderings by a banging on his chamber door.

Tyrion stumbled a little as he hopped down from his high seated chair and made his way over to the door on unsteady feet.

Throwing it open, he looked to see some northern guard staring down at him with a grim expression.

Tyrion stared at the man expectantly, "Yes? Is there a reason you are banging on my chamber door at this hour? Mayhaps you simply want the pleasure of my company and wine?" He drawled out in mild annoyance at the disturbance.

The man did not appear to appreciate his good humour, "Lord Stark has requested your presence immediately in his solar. I am to bring you to him" Stated the man firmly.

Tyrion was very curious and a little dismayed, his mind pondering if he had 'accidentally' offended the honourable Lord of Winterfell.

"I see. This request, might I take it up in the morning? Or rather, afternoon, as I am certain I will not be functional until later in the evening. Or shall I bring my Arbour gold? Is Lord Stark looking for a drinking partner? Perhaps one with the capacity for conveying facial expression?" He jested with the man who's features looked to be carved from stone.

"No, you will come immediately" Was all the guard said in return.

Tyrion heaved a sigh and made to follow the man but not without adding, "I see. Some _request_ "

* * *

Ned Stark sat in his solar late in the evening yet again. This visit from the king was more troubling than he had first imagined. He assumed that he would be offered the position of Hand and was intending on refusing but now everything seemed to be spiralling very quickly. Jon Arryn being murdered by his wife - Cat's sister – at the behest of Lord Baelish. Robert having changed so much and making awful political decisions. The list was endless as it was perplexing. However, the biggest adjustment of all is his eldest daughter.

It was a rather perplexing situation, the more one thought on it. Everything was changing with the seasons and he was not confident about anything. Only one thing he was certain about and that was that he trusted his daughter.

The knock at his door alerted him that his guest had arrived.

"Enter" He called and the chamber door opened. Jory entered and escorted Tyrion Lannister as requested. The Lord of Winterfell observed closely the half man that his daughter holds in such high regard. He was unattractive, short and his waddle was rather distracting. It brought away from how his keen eyes were taking in the room with an assessing gaze and taking himself in with a curious but educated eye. This was not something that he would normally have caught if not for Sansa's words of praise,

 _'Tyrion Lannister is not similar to his family, father. He has_ honour _and is cunning enough to guide you through the treacherous waters of the Red Keep. People often overlook him because of his size and attitude but I would hope that in the North we would not judge someone based upon their appearance and more upon the content of his character. Though, I may warn you, Tyrion Lannister fools many men by making crude jokes and behaving in an uncaring manner. Be very careful, beneath that armour is a sharp political mind and can twist any situation to his advantage so do not offend or made an enemy of him for it may be the last thing you do. It is important that we make an ally of him now as although he is unflinchingly loyal, his loyalties lie with whom he deems worthy and not solely with his House and kin. He is brave and will stand up for what he believes in but is not foolish enough to see himself killed for it. If we can make him an ally then I guarantee he will aid us back tenfold though we may never hear of it"_

After the rather lofty speech from his daughter he was admittedly curious. Tyrion Lannister, by all accounts, was not like any man he had met before. A conundrum, an honourable man but behaves as a lustful imp? A man who knows his place but is disrespectful to his superiors? A cautious man that behaves as a fool? A loyal man who is not devoted to his kin? He did not fully understand Sansa's explanation but knew it was not his strong point in knowing and understanding people's character. It was no secret that the Quiet Wolf was not a very sociable person. But Sansa's absolute certainty at Lord Tyrion's honour and strength of character was enough for him to give the man a chance.

"Lord Tyrion, thank you for joining me so late in the evening" Ned said to the imp as he continued taking everything in.

"Of course, Lord Stark, I am certainly curious as to why my presence is required at this time in the evening" The Dwarf replied easily as his oddly misshapen eyes laid upon him. Ned kept eye contact in order to study this unusual little man his daughter thinks so highly of. The small lord waddled his way to the other side of his desk and hopped up onto the high chair to be at a more equal level to him, the mismatched eyes never leaving his face.

For all his trust in his daughters insight, he was unsure of how to begin his own assessment of the imp, "Yes, I trust I did not disrupt your rest?" He began a little unsure, it was not in his nature to be so vague and conversational but he didn't see much of an option here.

Fortunately the imp did not seem too put out by his behaviour. A small chuckle left Lord Tyrion's lips, "Oh no, My Lord, fret not for you are not disrupting my sorely needed beauty sleep. Was I correct in assuming you are looking for a drinking partner? King Robert is not what he used to be I suppose" Ned frowned and watched the smirk lit up the crude features of the little Lords face. If he wasn't looking for it he wouldn't have noticed the sharpness of his gaze.

"No, Lord Tyrion, it is not" Was all he replied, hoping the Lannister would speak more freely. Suffice to say Ned had to bite his tongue to keep in his disapproval at the disrespectful comment.

"Yes well, is there anything I can help you with? A cupbearer? A footstool? I am the perfect height for such a task I assure you" Lord Tyrion began, his mouth twisting in some mock semblance of amusement but slightly more bitter.

He continued, his eyes wandering a little, "I must say, Lord Stark, you are being rather vague as to why I have been summoned. You seem more like the direct sort of man and it seems very unusual for you to ask me here at all - unless I had caused you some offence, which I am certain you would have informed me of immediately – and yet you haven't gotten to the point. Why would you wish to speak to me? A dwarf, mere lustful imp and yet also brother of the queen, Kingslayer, and second son to the lord of Casterly Rock. These titles would hardly hold any weight with the honourable Lord of Winterfell, if anything it would deter you from me. So I believe this is to do with simply _me_ yet I cannot fathom what has drawn your attention to me aside from being a product of my house and kin. So if it is not rude of me to ask: why am I here?" He finished this speech by staring directly into his eyes.

Ned was silent for a few moments.

It was undeniable the man was intelligent – smarter than his brother and sister respectively. This was no fool and he appreciated his directness and would be impressed if not unhappy at the disrespect.

"To be blunt with you Lord Tyrion, I have not noticed you personally but you have certainly stood out here in the north" Ned began with a slight falsehood, "It is no secret my distrust of the Lannisters but it has been pointed out that you are... different from your kin in certain ways and I wanted to see for myself. Yes, you are a dwarf but that would hardly stop me from wishing to speak with you. We don't judge a man based on his appearance but on the content of his character on this side of the world" Ned began his speak, alternating between looking the imp in the eye and staring at the candle flickering on his desk.

He continued, "To be truthful, I am looking for allies for my journey south where I shall begin my position of Hand of the King. It has been pointed out that you have a keen political mind, excellent judgement and enough common sense to make a good ally" Ned finished at felt a little foolish and very wary placing so much trust in a Lannister.

It was very difficult to judge Lord Tyrions reaction to his assessment. If anything he looked slightly shocked and very mistrustful. Ned knew the feeling well. The dwarf donned a thoughtful face but twisted smile as he replied, "I see and this offer coming from a Stark to a Lannister? Forgive my hesitance for this does not seem like something the great Ned Stark would do so willingly, yet such dishonesty from a Stark seems equally ridiculous. May I enquire as to whom set you upon this path?"

Ned frowned at the honesty in the mans words, "Yes, It is true the Starks – and I in particular, hold no love for the Lannisters – however, we are not enemies and I do not wish us to be. I disagree with the 'honour' and methods your kin uses to maintain power and 'justice' but that does not mean I will necessarily disagree with yours. I do not wish to be at heads with the whole House of Lannister in Kings Landing for it will cause more issues than it's worth. I want what is for best for Westeros and if maintaining a somewhat amiable relationship with you then so be it. I would hope that we would both work in our own best interests: that of the realm"

Tyrion Lannister remained quiet and with a thoughtful look upon his face for a few moments. Ned gave him a while to think through what he said. It was a good sign that the man thought before speaking despite his earlier rash comments. Sansa was eerily accurate in her description of the imp, if not for the overly high praise.

"I see, I can understand your reasoning and must say that your logic does not fit in with the 'Stark Stubbornness' I have often heard of through Roberts drunken ramblings" Ned frowned at this, "I do see the advantages in such an... alliance and I am intrigued. What is your proposition?" The half man leant forward in his seat slightly.

Ned sent a quick prayer to the old gods that he would not regret this decision and again questioned his sanity in letting his one and ten-year-old daughter make such important political decisions, "I propose that if you can be proved to be worthy of the duties and responsibility then I shall give you the position of Master of Coin"

Tyrion Lannister seemed speechless. Through his very little acquaintance with the man Ned got the impression this was quite a feet. The Lord of Stark tried to fight off a smile at the dumbfounded look upon his face. He wondered if he had looked the same way when Sansa had proposed this to him previously. Now only if he was as eloquent as his daughter and could explain this appropriately.

* * *

Sansa's days were simply becoming more and more wearisome and daylight hours seemed to pass so quickly. It was a much loftier task that she had originally thought, running the household in mother and father's absence. And caring for her mother. Sansa wondered if this was what it was like to _be_ a mother. Her duties included making sure Lady Stark was bathed, fed regularly and wiped away her tears. She was starting to question her life long desire of motherhood. In many ways it used to be her only goal in life. A beautiful husband and children and whilst she certainly wanted the children she also had a desire to make herself useful and to make the realm a better place. A place at Dany's side. Daenerys... how she missed her close companion. Dany was the best friend she had ever had, late nights with a bottle of wine, wrapped in furs and giggling about members of the court.

As Sansa approached her chambers she banished any previous thought of the mother of dragons lest the ache in her chest spread to something more troublesome. It was painful being separated from those she was closest to, painful indeed. She missed her family and her husband. She often wondered if she should change as much as she has, the future would not be the same and she would not have the comfort of her improvised family this time. These were dark thoughts.

Sansa wrapped her thick cloak around herself and came to a decision as her head swam with thoughts of her previous life. A very difficult decision but one she needed to make. Making a swift turn through the halls to the Maester Luwins office, she prayed that she was making the right decision.

The small piece of parchment she had hidden in her corset felt like a rock. This was simply a wilful dream she concocted and dismissed as impossible. But now she had _changed_ things. She was influencing things. Sansa learned a great deal from her husband but by far the most obscure lesson was that in life in order to get what you want, you had to take chances and gambles.

With this in mind, she unfurled the small piece of parchment and read as she walked.

 _Dear, Lady Daenerys Targaryen_

 _You do not know me, nor do I you, however, we have mutual interests I believe. I understand that you may not be pleased to be receiving this message, especially from someone with my blood but I ask that you heed my words. Not for myself but for someone that we both care deeply about._

 _I am Sansa Stark, first born daughter of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Lady Catlyn Tully of Riverrun. You must be confused by my desire to contact you but I assure you I have no ulterior motives. To be truthful, it could mean treason but I am willing to take that risk. I am not a great Lady or a member of court nor am I an enemy of you despite our Houses most recent history. I ask, no, plead that you keep this message to yourself and do not, under any circumstances inform your brother or any of your ally's. I am putting great trust in you and if it were to be found out I was in contact with you or your brother in any way... treason will be the least of my concerns. Now that you are aware of the inherent and immediate risks that I am under, I hope you will put some small measure of trust in me._

 _I would like to tell you something. I am unaware of the extent of your knowledge of the uprising and fall of your House as you were but a babe and I was not yet born. It is reasonable to assume that both our ears have only been open to one side of a very complex tale. I wish to tell you a facet that no histories have mentioned. The war begun when your brother kidnapped the betrothed to Robert Baratheon, my Aunt Lynna Stark. When my grandfather and Uncle rode to Kings Landing to dispute this with your father, he had my Uncle Brandon burned to death slowly as his father and the court watched on. My grandfather strangled himself trying to save his son. I understand your scepticism at this piece of information but this event was witnessed by many and I doubt any of your ally's would want to sully your favour by revealing such a horrid truth about your blood. In return for revealing this cruelty, I shall tell you one of mine. My Aunt Lynna was not kidnapped. She fell in love with your brother and ran away with him. She abandoned her duties, honour and started a war within our realm for your brother. No one is aware of this fact and only my father - whom this information was only confessed to him on his sisters dying breath - was told the truth. This is a fact by which my father holds many regrets._

 _But I digress, this is not my intention of contacting you. It is about my Aunts death. She was discovered dying and the world believes that your brother was the hand that slew her. This is not true. I am placing my trust in you, by the honour of your ancestors and by the honour of mine, I pray that my trust is not unfounded. For the truth of the matter to which only three living souls are aware is that my Aunt died in childbirth. She died bringing her son into this world. My father, the only witness, took and claimed this boy as his own son with the mask of being his bastard son and raised him as his own. This is my brother, Jon Snow. Fortunately, Jon greatly resembles his mother with Stark colouring and features but his demeanour and personality is all Rhaegar, I've been told. Again, Fortunately, not many men take note of the bastard son of a Lord so his identity has been able to remain hidden. Jon... has been the most wonderful older brother I could ever ask for. He is patient, kind, honourable, intelligent and wise beyond his years. I have been blessed with four brothers and my eldest brother Robb is only several moons older than Jon. They are the best of friends._

 _If you hold reluctance to converse with one with blood such as I, then I can understand. If you desire to avenge your House then I, too understand but I hope that our connection to our mutual kin will halt such desires and allow us some semblance of civility._

 _The reason I am writing to inform you of this is that my brother Jon has elected to join the Nights Watch. He is but your age and has decided a long and lonesome journey in an attempt to find a place in the world. He is not yet aware of his Targaryen heritage. He is young and has much to learn and I do not wish to burden him with more than he can handle at the moment. However, one day I hope that you and he will be able to form a great relationship. Jon deserves more love in this life. Although my siblings and father look at him as our blood, the rest of the realm does not and it burdens him greatly. If, one day, you could fill this void in his life, I will be forever indebted to you._

 _My decision to write to you now is also to make you aware that you and your brother are not the only living Targaryen's. Maester Aemon of Castle black and brother of the Nightswatch, is infact, your grand-uncle. In becoming a maester and joining the Nightswatch he denounced all ties with politics, so on his honour and by his vows, he was unable to do anything to aid during the war. Not to mention, due his advanced frailty as he is the oldest living man in Westeros. From my little understanding, I believe he was quite close with your brother Rhaegar and wrote to him often. My gift to you is this knowledge and my assurance that he will welcome any correspondence you may give, as long as it is personal and not political. The wall holds no sides and for this reason alone, he has escaped Robert Baratheon's great hatred for your blood._

 _Again, for these gifts I hope in return you will not inform your brother or any living soul of the information I have bequeathed to you._

 _We are not dissimilar in age, you and I. I will reach my two and ten birthday in soon and you should have already begun the journey into womanhood. I know not where our futures lie at this moment but I have faith in your honour, My Lady, my reasoning, however, I cannot express at this moment in time but mayhaps one day I will get the opportunity._

 _Magic flows through the blood of both our Houses. Yours by fire and mine by ice. Both seemingly incorrigible yet your brother and my Aunt managed to discover peace. Perhaps if they had both survived then we might have been great friends._

 _So for all of these reasons, I offer the hand of friendship and choice for you contact your great uncle and in time - when my brother is prepared for the information - begin a relationship with your nephew._

 _I do not find your House to be inherently evil based on its actions alone and I hope you will have enough wisdom to believe the same with mine. Any quarrel you have with my kin, is something which saddens me but I accept._

 _I am no great Lord or Lady, I have no political sway, I just desire there to be less hatred and more acceptance and love for my brother and my home. This is simply I taking a gamble based on the honour I have heard your brother possessed and pray that you are the same,_

 _Yours faithfully,_

 _Lady Sansa of House Stark._

As she read the letter over Sansa couldn't help but let a few tears slip though couldn't bring herself to regret this decision. This could mean death. It could mean treason. She was toying with the life of her brother if this information fell into the wrong hands. But her actions were not entirely selfish, no, Dany's presence in Westeros is essential to the future peace and prosperity of our realm and it's survival. This letter is not only possibly gaining an ally but hopefully a friend. The future is going to be very different but she hoped that some things would remain the same. They needed to for the survival of all of us.

With an odd calmness settling into her, Lady Sansa Stark tied the message onto the foot of a raven and sent a silent prayer as she watched it disappear into the night.


	11. Chapter 11

Sansa Stark was very busy the night before her father departed south. Her mother was unfortunately in no state to give father a proper send off or spend some time alone with her him and she could see the strain and sadness reflecting in his grey eyes as a result. The Stark girl had spent many a night in her fathers solar giving advice on going south. Her biggest issue was trying to make the honourable Ned Stark to bend his rigid views of honour and justice. She loved her father and in many ways, did not want him to wield on his ideals... but it is _impossible_ to be Hand of the King and run a realm with such ideals.

On the last night together her father looked weary but determined as they supped together and they spoke about everything.

"I see. I thank you for your advice and will heed your warnings Sansa but this is my responsibilities and I do not want you getting too entrenched in the politics of the South" Ned Stark sighed and rubbed his face wearily.

The young Lady nodded sadly but did not dispute him as he was only trying to protect her.

"Before you leave... I must broach a sensitive topic with you father" She began quietly.

Her father huffed some laughter and looked at her with amusement, "Now I am very concerned at what you consider to be a sensitive subject matter" His tone of voice wry. Sansa couldn't help but blush. She had been extremely honest with her father since her return and thinking back, she had probably broached every topic imaginable with him. Beheadings, green-dreams, politics, Littlefingers brothel businesses, her revenge on the Prince with Arya... which shockingly resulting in deep joyous laughter that she did not expect from her father, the dishonouring on her Aunt Lysa... _By the old gods, that is so embarrassing._

Her father snorted as he took a sip of water, "No need to be shy now Sansa, we Stark's are not exactly known for skirting around important issues or being vague. If it makes you feel better I value your honesty and direct approach. It is a trait you share with the Starks but fortunately, you also have your mothers unwavering sense of propriety" The Lord of Winterfell gave a very small but fond smile.

Sansa couldn't help but smile back, extremely pleased.

"Well it is mostly small issues. People will be watching you and wary as they do not know if you will usurp or damage their own position" She began.

Her father sighed, "Yes Sansa I am aware that I am not to investigate the death of Jon Arryn or it may cause me my head" He repeated what she had informed him off before.

Sansa sucked in the sharp breath, "Do not be so blunt with such things father, I can't bare it" She said quietly before beginning again, memories flashing in her mind of watching him killed the first time around, "But I just wanted to inform you that you should make it look like you are investigating it but then find there was no foul play. In fact, I would wonder if you would visit a young blacksmith apprentice named Gendry Waters and send him up to Winterfell" She asked, inspiration striking her again.

Ned Stark furrowed his brows, "Oh, that is quite a usual and specific request to make" He inquired without directly asking.

"Yes, you will see why once you meet him. I believe he is a bastard son of the king, I do not think that any ill will befall him in the capital but the Queen is very unpredictable..." She trailed off unnecessarily.

Her father simply nodded his head seriously.

"There is also something you will discover when you return south. Ser Jorah Mormont is, or will very soon be acting as a spy across the Narrow Sea to keep the small council informed of the last two surviving Targaryens"

Sansa's heart sped up at the information she told and closely watched her fathers face for signs of... something at her declaration. For all her 'directness' to, her father there has been one topic that seemed too taboo to reveal to him.

 _Jon_.

Sansa had taken a _huge_ risk in sending that raven. She had the fortune of knowing exactly where Dany was at this moment in time and there was seemingly no sure way to know if the note could remain secret. Unless of course, you were from the future and knew ways. The note was not directed or addressed to her friend outwardly and had many stops before reaching it's destination. The biggest and riskiest was to Citadel where it would make it's journey across the Narrow sea, completely guarded. The Stark name held weight and was known to be trustworthy so her note would be personally delivered by a loyal and illiterate young boy that was under her employ she had known from her previous life.

Of course, she had started to gain allies and employed people to work for her or under the Stark name rather. The Starks, though not ostentatiously wealthy, still had a considerable amount of gold and she used this to her advantage. Nothing that was even noticeable – though still approved of by her father and Maester Luwin of course – but to the average peasant meant a warm meal and bed. Sansa was not a noble that overlooked the usefulness and loyalty of peasants as it was all about correctly judging the individual.

She had the advantage of knowing many people from her previous life.

The young Lady took many precautions with the letter, even writing in High Valaryian as she knew Dany's brother did not bother to learn the language like she did. Regardless, it was still a huge risk, especially to Jon but Sansa had many contingency plans arranged should the worst happen.

In the end, the risk of not building an amiable relationship immediately with the future Queen is more disastrous for herself and her kin more so than sending the letter. Once her vile brother was dead, Ser Jorah Mormont monitored and controlled to some extent by her father and Dany learns Dothraki then correspondence will be much easier to maintain as she was fortunate enough to have learned from the Queen herself. She would need to find a loyal ally in Citadel which would be difficult as sending a boy back and forth across the narrow sea to send her letters was dangerous, risky and impractical.

Sansa and Dany had bonded and truly become friends as in many ways they were similar. Forced to wed against their will, though the Queens outcome was better than her own. Strong, intelligent women who were tired of being subservient. The young Stark was in a fragile state in the Vale and even her own brother brought fear to her heart. Dany showed nothing compassion towards her. Even though she was a Stark, married to a _Lannister._ It was a miracle she wasn't stripped of her titles and imprisoned for the rest of her life. This time around, she did not have these advantages so cultivating and aiding the future Queen was necessary. Especially before she gains an inch of power and Dany becomes suspicious of her motives. Despite the risks, it _had_ to be done.

If all else fails, her brother will need to flee to the free cities and perhaps herself where he would be welcomed by his Aunt. That she was sure of. Though the Riverlands and North would stand by her and even her father over the King. Perhaps even Dorne once the truth is revealed but war at this time was another headache she couldn't handle. The repercussions should she fail were huge but the possible outcomes of not acting immediately were too horrific to think of.

Sansa needed to ensure the future and prosperity of her family. This was the only way.

The young Lady snapped back from her thoughts at her father's comment, "I see. I assume you know my feelings on the matter but are going to ask me to do something I am uncomfortable with regardless?" He spoke seriously but with a hint of mirth.

Sansa blushed and smiled a little sheepishly, "Perhaps..." She hinted.

Her father leaned back in his hair again and made a motion of his hands for her to continue, "I believe that you should begin to write him also. The King may try to send assassins to kill the Targaryens – his hatred is legendary – and you should possibly write him and ask that he protect them from any possible dangers and keep you informed, in return, he may have the possibility of returning home"

Her father frowned and was immediately about the object when she cut in, "-I _know_ father that you disagree but I am simply suggesting that years down the line, if he gives you years of faithful and loyal service – from across the Narrow Sea - that he may return to the North with his honour intact. What he did was shameful, not only to himself but to his kin. I am not saying he may return and fully restored but... maybe give him the opportunity to restore his honour and join his family again. If he proves himself, give him a chance father, please. If not for himself but for his family who has always loyally served House Stark" Sansa finished passionately, feeling slightly wrong for trying to manipulate her father.

Lord Stark simply regarded her thoughtfully for several long moments. She did not waver in her convictions and showed her father this on her face

Ned nodded his head reluctantly, "I shall consider this and at the least directly correspond with the man. He shamed not only himself but House Mormont, especially by fleeing to the free cities. I will keep you updated but I am afraid I can promise you no more"

Sansa smiled brightly to her father and internally felt a sigh of relief.

The rest of their conversation with idle and small matters. Such as finally receiving a reply from Lord Tarth and his acceptance of Brienne coming to aid in Winterfell. It was an honour of course and Sansa was very excited to officially meet Brienne again. Arya would love her, she knew. With Meera Ried, Brienne Tarth and Arya she would be the odd Lady out by not being as strong willed and more feminine than them. She couldn't wait to tell Arya about the sword lessons.

Lady Sansa enjoyed her last evening with her father, relishing in his company. It was peaceful and she regretting having not known her father as well as she previously thought. It was a bitter-sweet night but the young Lady was simply relieved things were coming together at last.

* * *

Sansa stood outside in the courtyard for a breath of fresh air to clear her mind and calm her heart. Men were busy packing and rushing around, no one noticed the young Lady leaning on the side of the castle wall, seeking peace. Although it was loud and noisy, no one seemed to even glance at her for a change, giving her a desperately needed moment along.

Today was the day her father would ride south. Alone. Sansa had a great feeling of trepidation all morning as the reality and fear began to sink into her gut. Yes, she was knowledgeable of the future but the first time her father rode south, he died and she couldn't help but worry this was the last time she would see him again.

The one upside to the day was the progression with her sister Arya. The Stark sisters it seemed had finally found common ground in mocking their esteemed guests, in particular one Prince Joffrey. The red haired girl was ashamed to admit she did not realise how smart her younger sister was and found it difficult to keep in the laughter as she came up with some rather creative insults. In return, Sansa showed Arya the 'polite' way to mock and humiliate somebody. By putting them down. Arya said it was stupid because it was just acting better and more stuck up than the other person but Sansa was slowly teaching her sister the rules and nuances of court life. It shamed her that Arya had not been properly taught but instead was mostly reprimanded to be more subservient. The one thing she would _never_ be. The girls were still dancing around each other to establish a proper relationship but their bickering was more in jest now and the girls were definitely closer.

Most of this was thanks to Jon. As the Stark sisters were often found with their 'bastard brother' when they all had free time. Oh gods, Jon was _leaving,_ Sansa felt the familiar dull ache of loss settling into her chest. Sansa knew that she would see her brother again, she had to. He had a destiny to fulfil with Dany and she knew he would be safe. He would change however. Jon has a long, lonesome and difficult journey ahead of him and will become the amazing man he is fated to be. Sansa only wished his journey wasn't as tragic. We are a product of our experiences and Jon will need to have his.

These macabre thoughts were consuming her as she idly watched the men work.

"Someone is looking every inch the brooding Stark" An amused voice spoke from her left. Sansa looked up dully, seeing the smirking Kingslayer in all his gilded glory.

She was unsurprised to see the knight as she hadn't come across him since their agreement on becoming allies. They had yet to discuss anything concrete and today was the last day before he departed. It was a good sign that he hadn't forgotten not so much he had put it off until today.

"Ser Jaime, shouldn't you be busy helping your men?" She questioned calmly, ignoring his rude comment.

The man seemed to pause, eyebrows raised and giving her a considering look before speaking, "My strengths do not lie in aiding men pack, Lady Sansa. Evidently, I am more a hindrance than anything else"

Lady Sansa smiled in amusement, looking the man directly into his deep green eyes, "I believe you" She replied solemnly.

The man chuckled charmingly and offered his arm gallantly for her to take, "If I may, we have some things to discuss My Lady" The Lannister Knight said formally but quietly. The Stark girl noted the looks some were giving the pair and nodded shortly but declined his arm with a look.

"You wound me, Lady Sansa" Ser Jaime declared with a smirk as they began walking casually away from the busy courtyard around the back of the castle, still in public but not in the public eye.

The young Lady simply rolled her eyes, "I think your head is big enough to withstand the blow, Sunshine" She retorted.

Sansa noted he seemed to give her a sidelong grin, "There is the frosty, haughty little pup I know and tolerate. I had wondered where you had scampered off to. I hadn't taken you for the type to wallow is sorrow when their are things to be done" He remarked casually.

The Lady sighed in exasperation, "I am allowed a moment or two to worry and fret over the fate of my father, thank you very much Sunshine. I have been intolerably busy since the King's arrival and was enjoying a moment of peace until you arrived" Sansa complained, wishing she had more time to herself before her duties demanded her attention.

The knight hummed casually as they strolled at a more leisurely pace and stopped at a quiet opening near the forest where it was unlikely they would be interrupted or disturbed.

"I actually agree with you little pup. A little relaxation does wonders for the soul" The golden knight sent her a charming grin that would have sent her previous self blushing.

But now she just smiled back amusedly and decided to get to the point, "Is there a particular reason you have sought me out on this very busy morning, Ser Jaime?" She questioned redundantly, already knowing but prompting him to be direct.

The Kingsguard member sent her a look and turned his back to her to casually stroll around the small clearing, "You were correct when you said you have been intolerably busy recently. For a child you have an amazingly busy schedule, you appear to make time for everything" He began conversationally.

Lady Sansa raised her eyebrows, "I was not aware you desired my company so much"

The knight scoffed and ignored her comment before continuing, "Imagine my surprise when this little pup, despite making multiple meetings and private conversations with her father, did not have time to inform him of the attempted murder of his son, your own brother. I find that very odd though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You Stark's don't seem to go back on your words now, do you?" He mused as he leant casually on a tree, green eyes now boring into hers,

Sansa knew the game he was trying to play and smiled slightly back at the man and mirrored his casual demeanour, "Is there a point you are trying to make, Ser?" She prompted, only receiving an oddly contemplative look that was more common in the new Jaime from the future and not this old arrogant knight.

"You are strange. You do not behave your age. You are wise beyond your years. You are very much Stark at times but act as if you have been playing the game for years. It is unsettling. I do not know your motives and yet you seem to be completely trustworthy. The idea of a Stark trusting a Lannister is ludicrous but you have not yet thrown me to the gallows, which you could have done in your position and I believe you are aware of this fact. I would like to know your motives before I agree to aid you"

Lady Sansa was a little surprised by this statement. She had misjudged the eldest Lannister boy and now was reassessing the situation. He was a lot more shrewd that she had thought. Nowhere near Tyrion but his common sense was undeniable. Stronger than his sister, that's for certain.

Sansa decided honesty was the best policy, "You say that I have a power in this situation when if you step back and think about it, I truly do not" She said quietly, the knight approached her obviously very curious.

"Look at me, I am not yet two and ten years old. I am a Stark but I wield no sword, I have no power, nothing to protect my family. I took a huge gamble, for all your suspicion of me I have thrice the reason to feel that way about you. I am different, yes, I am smarter and wiser than my years but that is uncommon and no reason to distrust me. I did not tell me father and I don't intend to. I will do everything and anything to protect my family and that includes ignoring my pride and dignity and asking a Lannister for help. I cannot offer you much except perhaps understanding and the hope I may aid you again in the future. I am not asking you to commit treason, just watch out for my father down south and do what you can to protect him. I know you dislike him which is why no one will suspect you to be protecting him. Keep me updated on his activities and the feel of court, any enemies he will unknowingly make"

Sansa paused here and saw Ser Jaime's eyes sparkling with deep thought like his younger brothers did when assessing a situation carefully. She felt a pang of longing at the thought, how she missed her husband.

"We will both benefit from this agreement but for it to began we must have a little mutual understanding and trust. I have proven to be trustworthy and you have not. I do not have time or the patience to continue convincing you. If you wish to halt this then let me know and we will never speak of it again" Sansa finished seriously, hoping not. She had put most of her hopes within the knight knowing how resourceful he could be and would need to reconsider another path to take if it did not work.

The knight nodded his head and spoke in a serious tone, "I agree then My Lady, for the mutual benefit to both ourselves and our houses. It will do nobody good for the North and West to be at ends"

Sansa released the tension in both of her shoulders and smiled honestly at the man in front of her, her future brother in law.

The knight smiled back, though it was more of a smirk but it was still progress.

He began speaking, "I can write to you but I suggest finding a way to keep our correspondence private. Do not under any circumstances send your letters to the Red Keep for they will be spied upon. Send your raven to the Great Sept of Baelor addressed to Garrett Waters"

Sansa nodded her head seriously and considered for a moment, "It will be fine for you to address your letters to Lady Sansa as I have made a prior agreement with my Maester to guard and not read any letters sent to me-" The Stark girl was pleased she had already considered this. After sending her dangerous Raven out to Dany, she had given terse and specific orders to Maester Luwin to not read and immediately inform her of any letters addressed to her. Although if Dany replied it would not be by Raven but by messenger, it still reminded her to do this. The Maester was curious but if anyone understood and adapted to the changes in her character it was him. Sansa had helped and worked with the man since Bran's fall and he now addressed and consulted her as he did her mother. It was refreshing and a relief as she knew him to be trustworthy.

The knight scoffed as she spoke "-however, it is will ease your suspicions, you may address the letters to Jon Snow and they will be kept aside to be forwarded to the Wall"

Ser Jaime Lannister held his hand out for her to take, "Well then, Lady Sansa, lets hope this is the beginning of a mutually beneficial and _interesting_ new relationship" He stated with gleaming green eyes and golden hair artfully hanging down his face.

Lady Sansa took his hand, gauntlet covered and all and nodded in agreement, "Yes, let's pray this works" she agreed.

The pair then began making their way back towards the castle, chatting idly or rather Ser Jaime attempting to annoy the Stark girl when she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, Ser Jaime, I have my first bit of information for you that you may find useful" Sansa tried not to but smirked in a very Tyrion like fashion before looking at her future brother-in-law.

Ser Jaime stopped abruptly and blinked before grinning broadly and devilishly, "Oh? Pray tell me, I am _dying_ to hear little pup"

Sansa tried to keep the smirk from stretching but said airily, "There is a plot brewing down south as we speak... I have heard that the Tyrell's and Lord Renly have come up with a way to try and take power away from the Lannisters" She began, picking her words carefully.

Immediately, Ser Jaime's demeanour completely changed and he became uncharacteristically serious, "I see. What plot? What do you know?"

Sansa considered her words before speaking, "I do not know. I do not believe their intentions are deliberately malicious towards House Lannister but that their goals may become problematic for you. Before you inquire again, no, I am not aware of the details of this plot only that they are preparing a trip to Kings Landing after you return south. It would perhaps be in your best interest to keep an eye on Lord Renly and do what you can to prevent this trip, maybe?" She pushed, knowing for all his intelligence, Ser Jaime was not much of a player.

The Knight nodded seriously and gave her a considering look again but this time his green eyes held a certain amount of... fondness?

"I see. I believe I must then thank you, My Lady for all your pleading for help it seems to be you that is being more beneficial to me. I will take this to heart. This trip north has certainly been... enlightening. You are truly like no one I have ever come across before Lady Sansa" A puzzled look continued to grow on his handsome features but fortunately not a suspicious one.

Sansa smiled genuinely, "I shall take that as compliment, ser"

Immediately, the knights demeanour changed into something more playful, "You should. Never had I met such a dazzling, intelligent and painfully beautiful young lady" He then winked at her and bent down to kiss her hand.

Sansa rolled her eyes at his exaggerated compliments but was caught off guard by the voice that spoke from behind her.

"Be careful or Lord Stark may catch you trying bewitching his daughter, I fear that nothing you can do will keep your head on your shoulders this time. Where would I be then, hm? What would I do without my big brother to protect me?" An amused and _very_ familiar voice said as he walked into eye sight.

 _Tyrion._

Immediately, her heart lurched and throat dried. Her husband. She had been so busy she hadn't had time to miss him but seeing him today was only a painful reminder that he was leaving...

The golden Knight gasped and turned towards her, appearing affronted, "Do you hear this Lady Sansa? Such a selfish and heartless creature my brother is" turning back towards Tyrion was an amused face he said, "Do you care nothing for my undying devotion for this wonderful young lady? Perhaps they will write songs about us, The Kingslayer and the Red wolf. Such a tragic tale that-" Ser Jaime was picking up enthusiasm but Sansa was starting to feel frustrated and worried at the volume of his voice as people were still milling around.

"-Tragic indeed if my father ever hears of this. Or for myself, if you continue this spiel I may loose my fast" She sharply cut in with an unamused look to the knight.

Jaime Lanniser looked a little surprised at her before both he and Tyrion broke into chuckles that were definitely drawing attention. Sansa turned her head to see Jory approaching her with a frown on his face as if to intervene, she shook her head subtly to tell him that she was fine. The guard stopped, frowned deeper then walked away, no doubt to inform her father.

Her husb- future husband as it stood - approached further and Sansa tried not to visibly show her distress. She must look tried and had not taken as much effort with her hair this morning and no doubt the wind had been at it. Her gown was plain and she most likely looked unremarkable.

Tyrion's eyes were on her, deep and curious but there was a lightness that suggested fondness or something akin to it. It made her heart swell and crack all the same. His hair was messy but clothes sharp. He looked wonderful.

"Oh dear Jaime, I fear we have finally found a young lady that does not seem to fall for your charms. You may actually need to put some effort if you wish to steal this delightful young lady's heart" Tyrion said amusedly.

Sansa's heart did a double take at the near compliment paid to her by Tyrion but her stomach flopped uncomfortably at him speaking of her with his brother, even in jest.

Sansa sent a pleading look towards Tyrion, "Please do not encourage him, my lord, I beg of you" She tried to look comically horrified and even shuddered at the wink Ser Jaime sent her.

Her husband merely chuckled, "I am afraid we Lannisters are not known for our mercy, my dear-" Sansa's heart must have leapt to her throat in joy at the endearment - "Though perhaps I may make a bargain. I shall save you from the lecherous old knight if you will accompany me on a walk to the battlements. I am quite small you see and often get lost, it is hard to have a sense of direction from down here" His mouth smirked a little but eyes were open and taking her in.

Sansa knew he was jesting as he had an excellent sense of direction and could read maps quite excellently but nodded with a touch of fear and excitement at the prospect of speaking alone with Tyrion. Although not as her husband yet, she still missed being in his presence. He always made her happy.

What did he want? Part of her prayed that he wanted to form some sort of relationship? Or friendship before she was of age and she could begin trying to make him fall for her. Another part worried at this because if they were friends then he may never see her in the romantic sense. They could at least keep in contact as she was doing with his brother. Surely that would be innocent enough. No, it wouldn't be. It was the smarter decision to keep him at arms length until she was of age.

Sansa saw Ser Jaime raise his eyebrows in surprise before looking at something off in the distance. The Stark girl turned to see the Whore Queen herself emerge from the castle in a long beautiful gown. It made her feel all the more self-conscious. No doubt Tyrion was accustomed to such beauty and opulence on a regular basis. Strangely the woman was not in the company of her two youngest children and Sansa felt a pit of dread settle in her stomach at the thought of Cersei seeing her with her brothers.

It seemed this danger was very real as Ser Jaime seemed to perk up and turned to her, "I can see when I have lost. I shall forever mourn what could have been and subject myself to a life of misery and loneliness. I bow out with grace and dignity, knowing it shall never be. Good day Lady Sansa" He spoke eloquently but also quickly and edged away before hurriedly moving towards his twin.

It was just in time as the Queen turned around, noticed her brother and an almost sneer settled into her beautiful face. Sansa did not envy Ser Jaime at the moment.

Sansa was silent with the youngest Lannister for a moment or two before saying quietly, "Not very brave, is he, My Lord?" She commented as they watched Ser Jaime clearly pleading and taking the shit that the Queen was giving him. She looked disgusted and furious whilst he looked contrite and... accepting. There was no doubt who was in charge.

Again, the small man chuckled, "Bravery is also something no one could accuse of a Lannister" Was all he said.

Sansa immediately pushed down the impulse to object and declare he was the bravest man she'd known.

The pair walked quietly, Sansa unaware of the unwavering and deeply fixated gaze following her and taking her in. The pair walked slowly, no one paying them much mind. The walk wasn't far and Sansa had so many things she wanted to say but knew how unwise it would be. She couldn't let her emotions rule her, she needed to be patient.

"I have come to thank you My Lady" Tyrion began, quite pleasantly. Sansa felt at home listening to the rich tone of his voice and tried not to smile.

"Oh? I do not deserve your gratitude, I'm sure" the eldest Stark girl frowned a tiny bit of confusion. Her eyes moved to the man at her side and he nodded almost minusculely.

"Oh I believe that you do. I am not quite sure why you have decided to aid me but either way I felt it necessary to convey my thanks to you" He repeated and Sansa was becoming more confused. What had she done?

Sansa stopped walking as they had reached their destination and looked towards Tyrion. He was assessing her, which amused and unsettled her all the same.

"I am afraid I do not understand, My Lord" She said, feeling quite foolish.

Tyrion Lannister only raised his eyebrows a little and tilted his head, "I would hope you would not assume me to be a fool, My Lady. I am well aware of your intervention with your father and your proposal to give me a position in the small council"

Sansa was shell-shocked. How did he know this? "D-did my father tell you..." She began, a little out of breath, knowing her eyes had widened and lips parted in shock. To a normal person, she would look surprised but she knew her husband was taking in every nuance of her reaction. This was not good.

Sansa saw a little self satisfaction coming from the man next to her, "Of course not but it was not difficult to figure out. You are the only Stark I have properly spoken to and I haven't exactly been endearing myself to the people of the North. The only amiable conversation I have had is with you and then days later I receive a private audience with the Lord of Winterfell himself and he looking for allies and suddenly my name is on the top of this list"

Sansa was again shocked, how obvious was she? Of course Tyrion would put the dots together, it was the only rational situation. The Lannister was not quite suspicious of her but was definitely curious and she had somehow drawn attention to herself. But how? Was she behaving so unusually?

"Oh... I see" She mumbled, feeling completely thrown off. Sansa thought some very unladylike words of herself inside her head for being so caught off guard and not handling the situation well. She wasn't accustomed to wearing her armour around Tyrion and now it was showing.

Sansa kept her gaze firmly on the ground when she felt Tyrion step closer, her breath hitched and heart stuttered at his almost inappropriate distance.

"My Lady, it is not my intention to frighten you" He began in a soft voice that wrapped around her like an embrace, making her long for his arms to be around her, "I am simply curious and honestly a little impressed that you managed to convince the honourable Lord Stark to put a little trust in a Lannister. That is quite an impressive feat" He did sound impressed but she knew he was also trying to flatter her to cheer her up.

It worked, she chuckled a little and looked up to his painfully squashed but beautiful face that was all hers. His features were relaxed and soft, his eyes gentle and she would give anything for a simple kiss.

"Thank you, My Lord but it is all you I'm afraid. My father listens to my council but makes his own judgement. He is willing to offer you a chance, Lannister or not. I'm afraid he will never be too fond of your brother" She explained and Tyrion smiled a little at the obvious statement.

Of course Ned Stark would never like Jaime Lannister. He barely tolerated him.

"That is quite the high praise. May I ask why you have decided to intervene?" He inquired and as Sansa looked she saw that he was honestly completely baffled. It was a little amusing but heartbreaking all the same. Tyrion was always excellent at understanding others but even now he had no idea why she would even help him. It was heart-breaking and an eye-opener to her.

"Honestly?" She said and at his nod continued, gathering her courage, "I like you" She said simply.

There was a look on non-comprehension on Tyrion's face so she hastened to explained, "I like you. I think that you're smart. Sensible, adaptable, well-read and well-versed in southern politics. You worked for your father aiding with the sewage at Casterly Rock and done an excellent job so I hear. You have always excelled at what you've done and you have strengths that my father does not possess. He needs allies in the south but isn't the man to seek them out. I was hoping if he aided you, you would aid him back because you seem like the type of man that wouldn't forget a kind deed. I wish I could tell you more for you seem like a rational man but truthfully I just like you. I think that you're quite capable of handling yourself and your funny, kind and do not take yourself too seriously... I like you" Sansa finished with a small smile and it was Tyrion Lannisters turn to look shell-shocked.

It took him longer than it usually did to gather his wits but when he did he looked much lighter but also vaguely confused.

"I see then I definitely do not deserve your praise. Though I cannot fault you for looking for someone to help you father. I can tell that he is a good man and I swear I shall do what I can to aid him. Your interference was very kind and... most unusual but Lord Stark has given me a wonderful opportunity, one a do not intend to squander. Highly unusual but extremely shrewd of you to begin to cultivate a relationship between the Starks and Lannisters. Maiden knows there is no love lost between our Houses. You have my eternal gratitude and hope you will not hesitate to call upon me if you are in need of any help" He said seriously. Sansa knew this was less to do with her speaking with her father and more that she was being kind to him. It made her feel ill that Tyrion didn't know how wonderful and incredible he was truly was.

Sansa smiled a bright, blinding smile to the smaller man before her. The height distance wasn't as great at it will become and knew it was wrong but couldn't resist.

Lady Sansa Stark kneeled down on the ground and gave her future husband a hug. It was not completely inappropriate though to someone she was unacquainted and alone with it most definitely was. Sansa relished in the feel of his warm body in her arms and Tyrions musky, clean scent that always made her feel at home. She felt his heart beat and though it did not last long it felt like an imprint was made on her soul. They would be together eventually. He was her destiny, in this world and the next.

His shortened arms moved and touched her shoulders gently, almost reverently in return and Sansa resisted moving her hands to feel what she knew to be strong, supple muscle.

Sansa moved back and looked at his face which was surprised, warm and something else in his eyes she couldn't identify. She knew she was behaved inappropriately so decided not to linger. It didn't look like Tyrion would have a response either way.

Standing up again, she sorted her gown to rights and gave Tyrion one last warm and affectionate smile before wandering off and leaving him behind her.

Sansa tried very hard to keep out of her mind this was the last time she would see him in years but failed spectacularly as tears raced with warmth from her eyes and her hands began to shake. Sansa was a Stark, the blood of Stark and Tully and would not allow Tyrion to see her pain. Her head held high and she walked with dignity and grace befitting her station. He would not see the tears streaming endlessly down her cheeks or hear her laboured breaths. He would admire her and not think of her as weak this time, no she was a wolf and would not allow this to cripple her.

Sansa would see him again and when she did he would be _hers._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey guys, I am so blown away and happy at the response to this story. I didn't think much would come of it, to be honest, so I am very happy everyone loves it as much as I do. I have dived right back into this story so you will not be disappointed with my updates. I lost a big chunk I had written for coming chapters a few months ago so motivation to re-write everything was very low.**

 **Just to let you know that I will be making use of time jumps very soon, it should be obvious as you read but just a little warning. As easier as it would have been to bring Tyrion and Sansa together immediately, she is still a child.**

 **Things will be starting to heat up and more than ever I love to hear your thoughts, especially if I make any errors. I found it really funny that so many people noticed and pointed out the difficulties in sending a Raven to Dany as they don't go across the narrow sea. No, they don't and I had planned on explaining it in the next chapter but so many of you picked up on it. I loved it, I'm glad so many of you are on the ball and are so involved in my story.**

 **The fate of many characters will be changed, as obvious from the title, but is there any character, in particular, you are wanting to see a different end? I already have big plans and in keeping with the spirit of GRRM many will die though I'm much too attached to be as daring as him. Let me know what you think.**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

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The day after her father and Jons departure was quiet. Quiet being that the whole of Winterfell castle was solemn and people rarely spoke for Sansa herself was still very busy. Her maids dressed and bathed her before dawn and she made her way towards her fathers solar to get work done.

Her footsteps echoed down the halls as a few servants slouched about, Sansa nodded politely to Donnis and then Mikken the blacksmith who was also loitering about the halls. The castle seemed bleaker without her commanding father's presence but it was selfish for her to think this was the only reason. Her father took many guards with him south and every individual in the castle will be feeling the loss of someone they love. Sansa saw Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassell wiping tears chatting amongst themselves at supper the evening before. Sansa felt a stab of pain and longing as she should be with them in mourning and surrounded by the comfort of her friends. Not doing her mother's duties and presenting a strong front to the castle with Robb by her side.

Sansa pondered how the castle would be run now that father had gone south. It was difficult to make arrangements with mother unavailable as she would take over many duties herself. The Lord of Winterfell made most plans with Maester Luwin and not herself unfortunately but the eldest Stark girl walked towards her father's solar preparing to do what she could to aid Winterfell at least until Bran woke up.

Sansa slipped inside The Lord of Winterfell's solar and saw it already occupied by Maester Luwin. Though surprised she did not show it and merely nodded in respect to the man who nodded solemnly back as she reached the desk. Respectfully he rose from the Lords chair and offered it to her as she sat with him seated at her right. He was reviewing the budgets for the next month as with fewer mouths to feed it would need to be re-organised. It was long as tedious work but needed to be done right away.

Internally sighing she nodded and begin making amendments to her father's work with Maester Luwin then reviewing and asking the occasional question. Her father didn't make any large changes but Sansa thought it might be wise to fund the extra gold they would save by making preservative food for winter approaching and then training and finding new guards immediately. Luwin was a little surprised as you wouldn't usually be making preservatives for winter just at the changing of the seasons and it boarded on disrespectful to begin training and recruiting new guards so soon. Sansa was done squandering time though and knew this should be done.

They worked in silence for a while before the door to the solar opened again to her surprise. She had asked no servants to disrupt her except for to be informed when fast was being served. For all her planning, she had forgotten someone rather important and at that moment, he walked into the room and stared open mouthed at her with wide eyes and comic disbelief on his face.

"Robb, Good morning" She greeted, trying to keep away the amused smile dancing around the edges of her lips.

"Sansa, what-what are you doing here?" He gaped quite rudely and Sansa huffed and stood forward to give her brother a hug as she had become accustomed to doing whenever she saw him about now. He was a half a head taller than her and wearing more presentable robes than usual. His red hair was a still touch messy from being freshly awakened she assumed but his attire was fresh and pressed well. He was warm and welcoming in his embrace through his confusion and uncertainty at the situation was also quite clear.

Maester Luwin had also stood and was now standing in the corner of the room quietly and patiently. The fire was lit and so was the candles as it was quite dark when she first arrived but the room was brighter now as night became day. She must have worked longer than she had first thought.

"I am helping, what does it look like? I assume you are here to do the same?" She queried and mentally scolded herself for forgetting Robb's role. He took over the running of Winterfell in mother and father's absence the last time and usually as the eldest son and heir he would be required to do so. He hadn't been around during the Kings visit to help but her father was still here so it wasn't really necessary.

Robb blinked, still looking confused, "Sansa" He began in a patient voice that was a little demeaning, "I understand you want to help but-this" Robb then gestured to the work she had been doing and he even shook his head ruefully and placed his hands gently on her shoulders "-is not your place. This isn't your duties, you needn't concern yourself with this. Your still so young and it is hard work running a-"

Sansa's frustration and indignation only rose at his comments. She had to intervene, "Oh? What do you think I have been doing this whole time mother has been incapacitated, Robb Stark?" She pulled back and sent him a pointed look. He looked startled but was indeed listening, "You are here to take over for father's duties, excellent, as is your place to do so but seeing as mother has been useless these last few weeks, whom do you think has been taking on _her_ duties?" She asked rhetorically. Robb just blinked as if this had never occurred to him.

Sansa sighed and moved back over to the desk to arrange the parchments, "That is my place. I understand I am young but seeing as you are barely three years older than myself I think I can handle it. I had father's assistance before he left and of course Maester Luwins council. I am a little relieved you wish to help but do not be so foolish as to send me away Robb. Just as you have been training since birth to become Lord of Winterfell so too have I been training to become a great lady of a major House. It would be unwise to refuse my assistance" Sansa warned her brother, her position of power becoming threatened and as much as she loved Robb he was only four and ten years old and will make mistakes. She had to ensure he didn't.

Robb continued blinking and even shuffled his feet a little. Eventually, he laughed though it was a little strained, "You sound so much like mother when you talk like that" He mumbled and then ran his fingers through his hair.

Sansa smiled at her brother and moved to sit down at the seat that Luwin was at previously, "And never forget it" she smirked and then gestured to the Lord's seat for Robb, "You are here to help?" She prodded and immediately Robb rushed over and sat down with a laugh.

"Yes, I am though it seems you have already started on my work" He joked but looked at her curiously. Sansa nodded and gave him a look,

"Yes, I was, you're wondering what duties a required for a great lady, aren't you Robb?" She asked blankly seeing the slight puzzled and curious look from her elder brother. Robb actually groaned a little and shook his head at her again.

"Uh, when did you become so annoyingly intuitive Sansa? Isn't a Lady's role to bear children and run the household?" He asked as he started a cursory reading through the papers.

Sansa nodded, pleased he wasn't completely clueless, "In a manner of speaking, yes, but do you have any idea just what duties include 'running the household'" She inquired, knowing that he did not.

Robb's brow was furrowed much like their fathers and Jon's did when trying to concentrate. His blue eyes flickered up to hers before continuing to skim the parchments in front of him. Robb shook his head the negative.

Sansa sighed, it was difficult to explain so she simplified it, "Essentially a wife's and great lady's role is to perform the duties her husband doesn't. Reviewing his work, giving him advice, depending on his strengths and weaknesses. If he starts to slack off it is her job to ensure the castle keeps running and of course to oversee the running of the servants and daily tasks of the castle"

Robb had stopped to look up at her explanation, appearing a little quizzical, she sighed "They help their husbands, Robb. Ensure sure he does not make any errors. Complete work they are incapable of doing. I have received much of the same training of you but to a lesser extent. I need to, as the smallfolk say, 'pick up the slack' where my husband is lacking"

It was a tiny falsehood but a necessary one so Robb wouldn't question her unusual knowledge of running a Kingdom.

Robb looked a little shocked before laughing, "I do not envy you Sansa" He snickered. Sansa sighed, no he certainly shouldn't and Sansa hadn't even experienced the worst and more trifling parts of being a lady: Childbirth.

Sansa smiled, enjoying her brother's company. She had forgotten how much she missed Robb. They talked and debated some amendments she had made. Eventually, he came around to her way of thinking, of course. She had much experience with bringing around stubborn people to her way of thinking in her previous lifetime. To her surprise, Robb was competent. He was better at competent, he was actually very talented and intelligent when it came to Lordly duties. Without the ignorance of youth, Sansa truly knew her brother much better than she did in her previous lifetime. Truthfully, she was partially worried that he wouldn't be the same hero and incredible big brother she remembered but he was exactly the same. If not a little silly sometimes and lacking the confidence that comes with experience; he was perfect. He would make an incredible Lord of Winterfell. It was her responsibility to make him live long enough to fulfil his fate.

Sansa had requested Septa Mordane to inform her fast was being served and to make sure Arya was awake, presentable and present in the Hall. Time passed very quickly although she had woken very early to get prepared she did not get as much done as she had hoped. Of course, this was because of Robb's presence. She did not mind truly but Sansa would have gotten more done if not for patiently explaining to Robb and convincing him of her adjustments to the budget. To his credit, Robb was sharp and understood immediately and definitely contributed and helped her but he was still very young and she had had many years of experience in these matters. It was rather tedious to pretend she wasn't as knowledgeable and give Robb superiority.

She was mildly startled when the chamber door was knocked and opened, not expecting the Septa to arrive so soon. To her great displeasure, it was the one face, other than Joffrey that made disgust and anger well up inside of her. _Theon Greyjoy._

"Robb, you coming down? There are still few leftovers from last night's feast" He said with an easy smile on his disgusting turncloak face. She previously thought he was passably handsome but not anymore. It was ludicrous people scoffed at Tyrion's unique and disproportioned face yet did not throw up at the mere sight of _Theon Greyjoy._

Sansa kept her face impassive as Robb rose and smiled making his face appear more in a more boyish manner than before when working on the Winterfell accounts. Theon seemed to only then notice her as if confused why she would be in her fathers solar. His surprise turned to confusion and then bemusement.

"Lady Sansa, good morning, are you helping Robb in his duties now that Lord Stark has ridden south?" He asked, amusement showing clearly in his voice and body language. He was appropriately polite to her but bordered on condescending that it only made her more irritated. Robb rolled his eyes and whacked him on the back of the head.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she is and she has been very helpful unlike _you_ who has been lazing around on his-" A quick eye flicker to her and then back again, "- _bed_ all morning" He finished, clearly not what he was intending to say. Sansa stifled a smile. For all she adored and hero worshipped Robb in her previous lifetime he was still such a _boy._

Sansa observed her brother with this traitor and as try as she might she couldn't truly despise him like she did in her memory. All of his betrayals was in another lifetime, it was hard to believe that this young man would stab her brother in the back so thoroughly. Sansa knew that situations were not always what they appeared and one small mistake stemmed for a personal demon of weakness could spiral out of control, leading you down a path you would never have taken if you'd known the outcome. The Stark girl had often thought of her greatest error in telling the Queen of her father's plot to remove her and Arya from Kings Landing. It was a silly, foolish mistake that resulted in years of anguish and the disappearance of her sister.

Littlefinger had taught her to keep her enemies close and in your favour. That is what she intended to do with Theon, use him to her advantage but keep a close eye on him. She did not despise him enough to kill him needlessly.

Sansa smiled shyly at the older boy and walked forward, "Robb is correct, my lord, perhaps you should be helping" She said rather innocently with a smile to Greyjoy.

Robb laughed and Theon looked startled so she spoke again, "Robb, we were just saying that we want to start training new guards. Maybe if Lord Greyjoy is not busy he could assist Ser Roderick in training some of the younger boys. Ser Roderick will be run thin and mayhaps he can help some of the younger boys in sparring and their archery?" She requested, thinking her plan was smart. Many, many Northern children were claimed and turned into undead beings. It was horrific and Jon claimed a major problem in fighting them was that men hesitated to kill a child, undead or no. Archery also became an invaluable skill. With dragon glass but it was a skill desperately needed, especially before the Wall fell.

Sansa planned on training and building the armies in the north to better prepare. This was a good step to achieving her goal.

Theon still looked a little startled but pompously pleased and Robb grinned brightly and slapped his friend on the back, "That is an excellent idea! You up for it Greyjoy? It would be good practice for you too, give you something to do now that I'm taking on my father's duties. What say you?" Robb smiled, looking very pleased with the arrangement.

Theon looked a little - dare she say it - flustered and excited but hid it behind a bravado and cockiness that was not very attractive. The boys chattered amongst themselves eagerly as they left for their meal, Sansa watching them leave.

Sansa was silent for a moment or two as she heard their voices drift away.

"You are not very fond of Lord Greyjoy, are you my lady?" A voice she had forgotten was present. She blinked and turned to Maester Luwin with a wry grin.

"I am afraid not Maester. Is it so obvious?" She hoped it wasn't, her emotions shouldn't be so blatantly displayed to anyone. Even her trustworthy Maester.

Luwin shook his head and approached a little, hands clasped together but hidden by his long sleeves, "No my lady, I have known you all your life and your mother for quite some time. You are quite similar to her in many regards" He explained.

Sansa was not quite mollified and simply hummed. It was silent for another moment until the Maester spoke again, "If I may" He paused then and she turned her attention to him fully in curiosity, "Why have you developed such a sudden dislike of Lord Greyjoy? Is it something we should be concerned with?"

Sansa had to give it credit to Maester Luwin, he adapted to her rapid change in personality the best. Her father often forgot and spoke to her as a child before she had to remind him. It was the same with almost everyone but not Luwin.

The Stark girl pondered his question for a moment, "No, I believe not. Not at the moment at any rate. It would be wise to keep an eye on him but I see no dangers in the moment. I'm afraid I can give no explanation for my sudden change of heart" She told him.

Luwin nodded, "Yes, my lady. I cannot begin to imagine or pretend to understand the changes in you or these Northern magics that run through the Stark blood. I do not share your beliefs and faith in such things but I can believe what I see with my own eyes and your change in character is definitely one. You have my faith and confidence, my lady even if I do not believe in such myths"

Sansa smiled at her Maester, she often forgets how knowledgeable the man was on her personal situation as he often lingered in the background. She was glad to have such an ally.

"Thank you Maester Luwin, now if you will excuse me, I shall go break my fast" She nodded to the man politely and then silently left the room.

Making her way through the halls Sansa planned the rest of her day. As she walked into the Hall she saw Robb seated with Ser Roderick and talking to him enthusiastically. He certainly did not waste any time, Sansa tried not to smirk. The old knight did not appear too pleased most likely because this was placing a great deal of responsibility on Theon shoulders and although the North was respectful, he was technically a hostage.

Before she could be seated she was approached by the Greyjoy heir himself. She raised her eyebrows but nodded to him politely.

"Lord Greyjoy" She greeted.

Theon Greyjoy's eyebrows were furrowed but he did not look angry, "Lady Sansa" He replied. The Stark girl gave the boy a moment to collect himself as he was obviously trying to find the right words.

"I was just wondering why you recommended this role for me? It seemed most... unusual and unorthodox" He did appear confused and Sansa used this moment to manipulate the boy.

She smiled warmly at him, "My lord, you know that Robb loves you like a brother, don't you?" She said bluntly and continued, "My father has trained you, educated you alongside his own sons and never treated you any differently. I understand what you are hinting at but you should know that although you are technically a prisoner, none of my kin sees you that way" She paused here as she was getting into difficult and personal topics.

Theon was uncharacteristically serious and watching her, "It may be unusual but you are our ward and one day will become Lord of the Iron Islands. You have responsibilities and duties yourself and I think this is a good place to start. To be truthful, it was actually my father's idea to give you more duties but with the Kings arrival and Bran's fall, he hadn't really had time" She lied and mentally reminded herself to tell her father of this in a letter.

Theon looked pleased for the apparent favour of her father. Yes, definitely still a boy, "This was Lord Stark's idea?" He asked her again, wanting confirmation.

Sansa nodded her head, "Not _exactly_ this idea but he has been mentioning giving you some duties for a while and he was planning on sending away for some books on Iron born customs and traditions" The falsehoods flowed easily from her lips.

Theon looked back and frowned at Robb for a moment, "Robb didn't mention anything" He said almost in a suspicious manner.

Sansa laughed lightly, "Of course not, in case you hadn't noticed he doesn't really keep secrets from you and Robb would be so excited he would have been in father's face about it"

The pair watched Robb laughing and chatting excitedly to the master-at-arms and few remaining guards of their plans with the Greyjoy heir. He was boisterous and Sansa doubted she had seen him in such high spirits for a while.

Theon smirked at the image and Sansa made her escape, "I shall write my father for his confirmation of course but he shouldn't have an issue with it. I pray that you remember that you are like family to us and don't think yourself out of place" She smiled at him again, "you are not a Stark, no, but you are a Greyjoy and a great friend and ally to the Starks. May the gods help you remember that" She said, trying not to sound threatening at the end.

Sansa then walked away to be seated beside her sister. The Greyjoy heir watched her go, a little incredulous but deeply grateful and with much to ponder.

* * *

Days became weeks the two eldest Stark children had become quite the effective pair. Robb took to Lords duties like a fish to water and Sansa had more time free to begin her planning. The Reed children hadn't arrived yet and she had Rickon to attend to more than ever but things were going well. Her Lady mother was still distraught and of no use so she prayed Bran would awaken for her own state of mind. It would still take some time yet for Brienne to arrive but she was not too concerned but still very eager for the brave woman to appear.

Sansa had also begun helping Septa Mordane in Arya's training. The Stark girl was less strict and reprimanding to her sister but she wanted Arya prepared, if not for a husband but to be self-sufficient on her own. Sansa explained to her younger sister that she needed to know all of this or she would become dependent on a _husband._ Suffice to say her the youngest Stark sister stopped her complaining. Perhaps Arya could have some role in Dany's court? This idea was very appealing to Sansa and had already begun preparing for this eventual outcome.

Her father had written and informed her that she was indeed correct in her advice. Baelish approached as an ally, everyone was watching him and wary of his position, the Queen was hostile, Robert was useless and he was most frustrated by the tourney being held in his honour despite the Crown being broke.

She had also received other Raven's from both Jon and Ser Jaime;

 _Dear Sansa,_

 _The Nights Watch is not what I had expected it to be. It is a crumbling echo of what it once was, although the view is indescribable. Uncle Benjen has not been around much unfortunately and will be leaving on a raid soon. The people were not what I was expecting but I pray I can find a place here. I travelled north with Tyrion Lannister, the half-man. He is a curious one, not like any man I have met before but keenly wise and is always interesting to be around. He has given me some good advice._

 _Training of new recruits is now underway by the Master-at-arms at Castle Black. His name is Ser Allister Throne and does not seem to approve of anyone that isn't Highborn. There very few here at Castle Black. It is of course very cold and I shall miss you sneaking me and Arya hot tea after supper on a cold night._

 _How is Bran? Please let me know if he awakens and if Rickon is coping any better in your Lady mother's absence. I hope you and Arya are well and are continuing to get along. Ask her if she is enjoying her Needle, she will know what I mean. I hope Winterfell isn't too empty now that father has left and I hope you are all not feeling his loss too strongly._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Jon Snow_

Sansa smiled and beamed with pride at her brother's beginnings of a friendship with Tyrion. It was a relief to know that someone would approve of their future union and despite missing her brother dearly she was happy he was safe and where he was meant to be.

Her letter from Ser Jaime was not as enlightening;

 _Dear Jon Snow,_

 _Greetings, little pup, are you missing my presence yet? No doubt you are as my dazzling personality is no longer there to warm and brighten the cold and dreary North._

 _I am pleased to inform you that your father is still alive upon his arrival to Kings Landing. King Robert has been most pleased with your father's presence and is already planning a Tourney in his Honour. It is such a pity that you are not here for I would be delighted to crown you my Queen of Love and Beauty to witness your father's reaction to such an event. No doubt that would be counter-productive, as he would most likely implode from sheer rage alone._

 _From the little I have witnessed, Lords and Ladies alike are observing and watching your father as he settles into his duties. Lord Baelish, in particular, has seen a kinship, apparently, with your father and been friendly with him. You should be aware that Littlefinger was once in love with your Lady mother and challenged your uncle Brandon to a duel that he spectacularly lost with a nasty scar on his chest and banishment to show for it. His immediate approach is unusual and he is most likely not an ally of the Starks. He cautious, he cannot be trusted._

 _I must confess, little pup, that I have already grown rather weary of this task as your father is quite the dull man. He is always working and his face is as frozen as the rest of your destitute land. He works and spends time with the King. That is all._

 _He has not attempted to make any allies to my knowledge and there has been no hostile or plots brewing yet. It is my..._ pleasure _to report that he will mostly likely live through the moon._

 _Wishing you are well,_

 _Sunshine_

Sansa was both amused and exasperated by Ser Jaime's letter. It was very much like Tyrion but quite different at the same time. Tyrion shares many traits and sense of humour with his brother and it warmed her heart that through her contact and acquaintance with Ser Jaime she had a connection to Tyrion.

Sansa was on her way to the kitchens to have a discussion about the dinner when a guard came running down the hall with an alarmed expression. It immediately caught her attention. He was panting and seemingly did not notice her.

"Ser, what is happening?" She asked more sharply than she had intended. The man was flustered and looked down at her in surprise.

"Lady Sansa, I must fetch Maester Luwin at once" He breathed, still panting and desperate to leave but he did continue speaking, "It's your brother... it's Bran... he's awake"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Alright so this chapter doesn't progress the plot along much but I felt it necessary to give more insight into Tyrion and start laying groundwork for future events. Which is why I have decided to post two chapters at once. I know, I'm so excited. I prefer character interactions and revealing things as they come but I won't be doing that as there is so much to cover. Next chapter is my first time jump and I hope you like how things have progressed.**

 **So bare with me folks, things are creeping along and starting to come together now.**

 **Now on with the chapters.**

* * *

Tyrion Lannister rode south with an escort of crows. Lord Commander Mormont was kind enough to send Jyck, Morrec and Yoren south to travel with him as they fetched more recruits for the Wall. The old bear was a good man, intelligent enough to attempt to get on his good side in the hopes that he, as the Queens brother, may repay the kindness with more men for his watch. It was a pity really, some good men were lost and bound to the worst side of the world. The Night's Watch was a midden heap for all the misfits of the realm... But like in all piles of garbage sometimes you find something useful that has been tossed away by a foolish man unable to understand true value.

He, of course, had to stop at Winterfell again for the expected pleasantries that come from travelling through one's land but to be truthful he was most eager for a warm bed and time to rest his aching muscles. His legs cramped and lungs ached from the chilly winter air. Tyrion, again, thought that he did not envy the crows and the life they had sworn.

Himself and his small guard rode into Winterfell near nightfall and he was not expecting to be properly greeted because of recent news of the young Stark boy finally waking. But to his surprise, Ned Stark's eldest son stood side by side with Theon Greyjoy and a few members of the guard. His direwolf pup seated obediently at his side. Lady Catelyn was not present but he did not expect her to be as although Stark in name only, she certainly had the cold and impassive countenance of a Stark towards a Lannister. The Lady of Winterfell wound no doubt be at her newly awoken son's bedside, Tyrion had heard he'd been rendered a cripple.

"Greetings, Lord Tyrion. I am afraid dinner has already been severed but I shall send food to your chambers if you wish" Robb Stark greeted formally with a maturity that beguiled his age. Was this boy older than his bastard brother? He had thought not but they were both more serious than boys their age typically were. Miles ahead of Joff. Perhaps it was a Stark trait.

Tyrion, awkwardly hopped down from his large mare, trying to ignore the pain in his small legs as he approached the boy he had to look up to,

"I thank you, my lord, that would be a godsend after many nights at the end of the world. Surprisingly, not a very warm and welcoming place to be. Your brother sends his regards" He said, more confident in passing on his greetings when Robb Stark did not seem openly hostile to him.

Robb Starks red hair blew in the breeze and his serious Stark countenance faded as he smiled at the half-man, "Jon? How is he doing?" He asked easily.

With that, the atmosphere lessened to a more informal air and his guard began to take their horses to the stables and servants began showing them to their rooms. Most of the people dispersed with only Robb Stark and Theon Greyjoy remaining by his side. He followed them into the castle as his mare was taken by a stable boy.

"Quite well as far as I could see. Excellent with a sword, pissing the master-at-arms right off with his skill. I mean no offence but I thought your brother Jon was a rather serious fellow but Ser Allister Thorne puts him to shame. Good lad your brother is, helping the new recruits. He will do well at the Wall" Tyrion stated honestly. He didn't know what it was about the Starks but he either liked or disliked them when he was usually to be on a whole rather disinterested in other people. The majority of people were quite dull and predictable but not the Starks. At least the ones that didn't despise the look of him.

Robb Stark smiled happily but his blue eyes showed sadness as if he missed his bastard brother already. Deep blue eyes, Tully eyes, a trait that he shared with his younger sister, Lady Sansa.

Tyrion immediately banished all thoughts of the young lady from his mind.

"That is excellent to hear, I should write him and tell him that Bran woke up. I should have done already but things have been quite busy with our Lord father's absence" He said, almost guilty.

Tyrion was kind, "Do not fret, I believe he has heard the good news already. If his gleeful shouting was anything to go by" He responded. Tyrion remembered the moment the bastard had come running into the food hall and hoisted him up to spin around in a circle. It was an unusual moment. He hadn't taken the Stark's for a particularly physically affectionate sort but with Jon Snow's little performance and then there was _Sansa_ Starks embrace...

He halted his train of thought immediately.

Tyrion spoke again, "I believe I shall retire now, my lord, I thank you for your hospitality. I shall not be staying too long, only until I have rested sufficiently to travel south"

Robb Stark nodded his head and motioned for a servant to approach.

"Very well my lord, I'm afraid we will not have as many feasts as when King Robert was visiting but you are welcome to join us at mealtimes and make use of any services here at Winterfell" The boy said genuinely. Robb Stark did not share the distaste of the Lannisters shown by Catelyn, Ned and Benjen Stark. It was a relief. He could see why many people were fond of the Starks as they were quite pleasant when not being deliberately unwelcoming. Not that his family did not deserve such treatment.

Tyrion bid the boy and his companion good night before remembering to pass on Jon's message, "Oh my lord, I had almost forgotten, your brother wished me to tell you that he will soon be commander of the Nights Watch and not to fret for he will be keeping you safe. He recommends that you should take up needlework with your sister and have Mikken melt down your sword for horseshoes" Tyrion relayed with amusement, confident the boy would not to too offended.

Indeed the boy laughed and the Greyjoy to his left slapped him on the back and began teasing him. The brotherly affection between the boys was obvious and Tyrion shook his bed before retiring for the night.

He was expecting to be in the same rooms as he had been in before but to his surprise, he was shown to a more lavish chamber with a ready fire, warm furs and bottle of wine at the table.

It was a wonderful surprise and he wondered why Lady Stark would arrange for such comfortable arrangements for him now that she was not required to play gracious hostess since the Kings departure. Tyrion ate some bread and enjoyed some wine before climbing up to bed to rest his weary bones.

Only after fully relaxed and his bones were heated again that he began to ponder this. Lady Stark did not give him these lovely rooms and neither had young Robb Stark. He thought for a moment and concluded that must have been the Lady Sansa.

 _Of course, it was._

Tyrion sighed deeply as he snuggled into the bed, his mind tired and wandering to the young girl he had refused to think about. Lady Sansa Stark continued to be a conundrum. She was kind and sweet but held no naivety or foolish ideals that many youths did. Jon, despite being quite the smart lad, was still a boy and it has shown through at times. It did not with the beautiful red headed lady. Sansa Stark was sharp and cunning but friendly and welcoming at the same time. A combination that was as puzzling as it was rare to be directed at him.

Children that were kind to him were naive and hadn't learned to be disgusted with him yet. Sansa was aware and even intelligent enough to try and seek some allies for her father's trip south. It was quite unusual for Lord Stark to travel alone, it would have been expected to perhaps bring his daughters and younger sons so they would become accustomed to court life and better known to possibly have better matches when they were grown.

The girl seems to have taken a liking him that he could not fathom. People did not like _him._ Beautiful young ladies that should be singing songs and dreaming of knights did not like him. _But Sansa Stark did._

Tyrion was frustrated in himself. The first pretty lady to show genuine interest in him and he couldn't stop thinking about her. He wished he could pretend it was attraction but it was not. Well, not the attraction of a man to a woman but something about the girl piped his curiosity and his fascination. He was drawn to her like a crow to shiny objects. There was something profoundly different about her.

The whole thing was ridiculous and, logically, he knew that there was something quite unusual about the girl and it was completely rational to be curious about her. His other... feelings on the matter were quite problematic. He was charmed by her. She was sweet, innocent, sharp, well-versed in literature, a good sense of humour and of course, painfully beautiful. How could he not be charmed by her? Keeping his feelings and rational thinking in control was another matter altogether.

Then there was her farewell to him...

 _Maidens teats,_ he should not think of it. Sansa Stark _had_ to have known it was not appropriate. _She had to._ She was a proper young lady that did not once falter in her courtesies. Yet she... _hugged_ him. He had two minds on the embrace. The second was frustration and surprise. He had half a mind to find the girl and warn her of hugging men lest they get the wrong idea. The first was that he was... _warmed_ by the hug.

Tyrion didn't think anyone had ever hugged him before. He would like to think that it was because of his small stature, making it odd for anyone to embrace him but he knew better of course. Nobody was particularly fond of him.

Except for Lady Sansa Stark it seemed. _She likes me,_ He groaned into his pillow but could not help the smile that stretched across his face.

She had requested him to look out for her father. It was an endearing and sweet request that would be annoying to follow. As much as he would like to, Tyrion could not decline. He would keep an eye on the Hand of the King but there was he in his non-existent power could do.

 _Master of coin,_ Lord Stark wanted to make _him_ a part of the small council and get rid of Lord Baelish. Tyrion couldn't wait to see his Lord father's face when he heard the news. But Tyrion was no fool and he knew that it would not be wise for him to be appointed immediately or even sometime in the near future. Lord Stark would do well not to bring him in yet and allow him to get accustomed to the men around him and after he had established his power, begin to make changes.

Either way, he would be a complete and utter fool not to accept this alliance in the hopes something would eventually come of it. Though it would be wise to be kept secret. It would be a while for him to be given power he knew as the role was currently held by another man but it gave Tyrion something to look forward to and strive towards.

He would need to tone down his behaviour around Lord Stark and make his trips to brothels more secretive, to his dismay. Whilst he wasn't to keen on these changes he knew the moment the honourable Lord Stark saw him or heard of his exploits with whores his somewhat positive view of him would be back to seeing him solely as a _Lannister._ Discretion was not something he was fond of but it was necessary. He would not squander this opportunity for a warm cunt and a crude jape.

His mind drifted back to the young Lady Sansa. She was all nervous smiles and bright welcoming eyes when he had seen her. She had a beauty that was effortless and obvious, shining from deep inside of her. Her body was warm as she hugged him tightly, allowing him to be comforted by the soft but firm form of her before she let go. His heart had stuttered and breath caught. Tyrion was dazed and before he knew it she had walked away as if nothing had ever happened. She said that _she likes me._

He should have had better control of his thoughts but instead, he simply drifted off dreaming of red tresses blowing in the wind and a swirling blue gaze smiling at him fondly.

* * *

Tyrion did not stay in the north for very long. In fact, he stayed a total of two and a half days. His visit wasn't nearly as enlightening as the first. For one his brother was not present. Another was that everyone was excited for young Bran Starks awakening that he was forgotten, he was rather small after all. Tyrion did not draw attention to himself but did dutifully give his gratitude towards Lady Stark and convey his wishes towards Bran that had woke up. She nodded politely but did not give him a proper audience, not that he had expected such.

The boy Bran was a kind lad but also quite sad, he had yet to accept that he was crippled and Tyrion remembered his promise to Jon Snow that he would do what he could to aid the boy. In the end, he had given him the drawings and idea of creating his own saddle. It wasn't much but it certainly seemed to cheer the boy up. Two scruffy dark haired girls flanking Bran Stark seemed most excited and he had glad he could do something for the boy. He thought one of them might have been Ned Stark's second daughter.

Robb Stark thanked him and so did his Lady mother, though less genuinely. Tyrion had not had the pleasure of being in presence of the most curious and interesting Stark as they never seemed to cross paths. He wasn't exactly trying to avoid her but did not seek her out. His interest and affection with the girl were as troubling as it was ludicrous. There was something dangerous and powerful in the Stark girl that his instincts acknowledged but dismissed and that unsettled him. She was too wise for her age.

He had _seen_ her. Walking about and chatting to various guards. She was always on the move and doing something. He watched her curiously from the shadows but never approached. Sansa Stark looked less tired and more relaxed than when he saw her last. No doubt from the waking of her brother. She was always beautiful and kind but stern and sharp and held an authority one her age really shouldn't.

It was with both relief and dismay that he mounted his mare and left Winterfell behind him without speaking to Sansa Stark. As Tyrion was leaving the gates a rider passed him with an inclination of the head. He was in full armour, helm and all and did not seem to be a Northern man. Tyrion was quite startled when the rider removed their helmet revealing a woman perhaps as ugly as he was with straw like hair. The woman spoke briefly with one of his riders and not himself, obviously assuming he was not the highest in station. He forgave her for the slight as he himself had judged her as well. Tyrion was mildly curious but he ignored the strange woman rider and continued out of Winterfell castle to begin his long journey south.

The more he travelled, the more he felt an ache settle into his gut that told him he had made a grave mistake and foolish error in not seeking Sansa Stark out.

* * *

It was a great relief to everyone when Bran Stark woke. Lady Catelyn seemed to pull herself together and was starting to take on her old duties again. It was a relief to Sansa especially. Robb and her lady mother were more than capable of running the north in her absence but she still liked to oversee their work and keep informed.

Sansa spent time with Bran now and tried to comfort him as best she could. He was speaking of flying and starting to come into his abilities. She wished she could aid him better but had no idea of how. He was slowly slipping into depression and it worried her. Fortunately though Meera and Jojen Reed had arrived and were now playing host to her brother. Meera and Arya hit it off, much to her slight envy and were often seen together doing things a lady shouldn't. Lady Catelyn was pleased Arya had made a friend that was both female and a lady even if she disproved of their activities, it was still an improvement in her eyes.

Sansa continued to push for a stronger guard in the north. It was not too difficult to convince this of her brother and mother as after all, _Winter is coming,_ and they needed to be prepared. Trade with other lords and storage and distributions of preservatives for winter was at an all time high. Her mother thought such was excessive but as it was so important to her, she relented.

Bran's mood improved with his friends even if Lady Catelyn thought the Reed boy was a little strange. Sansa had taken over the more menial duties from her mother, much to her dismay. She arranged the quarters for the Reed children and set up comfortable rooms for Tyrion's impending arrival, not that she knew when this would happen but was eagerly anticipating his arrival.

Word from the wall was that Uncle Benjen had gone missing. Robb insisted on going to find him and most of the other children were sad but not overly so. Sansa was in a low mood for the rest of the day. She had forgotten about her Uncle Benjen and perhaps could have saved him. It felt like she had forgotten her own kin because he wasn't an important player. She was ashamed.

Nothing significant was happening at the moment and that made Sansa all the restless.

The Tourney of the Hand underwent with Ser Loras being the victor but giving the victory to Sandor Clegane for saving his life as it happened previously. This amused Sansa to no end and made her father _promise_ through Raven to send her congratulations to Sandor Clegane. Her father also wrote about his difficulties in being somewhat pleasant to Lord Baelish. She knew that the only reason he held his tongue was because of his promise to her and the warnings of what would happen to his children if he was not civil to the murderer. He was not noticeably antagonistic which was acceptable enough. He had found his own man to send the Raven's fortunately and her letters were sent directly to the Tower of the Hand. She was glad her father took the warnings of High Maester Pycelle loyalties to heart.

Sansa had revealed to her lady mother of Robert's plans to appoint Ser Jaime Lannister Warden of the East. Lady Stark was horrified and Sansa revealed her plot with father to host a Tourney at Riverrun to announce that Yohn Royce would be given the title and the Vale Lords and Crown would be invited. This as a means to convince the Usurper King of the appointment. Additionally, Robert Arryn would be fostered somewhere for his own protection. Her mother did not agree with this part of the plan but Sansa would push more when she felt it necessary.

Lord Hoster Tully was not too keen on the idea when his daughter wrote him but Edmure Tully was more willing and convinced his father. This Tourney was of course still a secret as the King hadn't yet agreed to give the title of Warden of the East to anyone at the moment.

In a raven to her father, she told him not to bring up the issue with the King until he brought it up first. It was a meaningless title in times of peace anyway. One wasn't sure when Robert would think on it again but it could be a while yet until someone was appointed, in respect for Jon Arryn. Sansa reminded her father of the plot and told him how to sell it to Usurper King with a Tourney.

Sansa had been sending and receiving Ravens almost daily and was quite pleased with her progress. Jon had left on a ranging mission so she had become well acquainted with Samwell Tarley that kept her informed of the goings on at Castle Black. He was a sweet boy and she could read his nervousness from the letters but was pleased Jon was making such friends. Maester Samwell was a loyal ally and true friend to Jon. He was an indispensable instrument in the eventual defeat of the Others. It was a wonderful surprise that she became so well acquainted with him so immediately. Sansa believed his death haunted Jon more than others. She did not know why but there were whisperings that Longclaw was the one to bring him down in the end in mercy before he turned. She was never brave enough to ask. Ultimately, it was most fortunate for her as she was needing an ally in Citadel in times to come.

Things were coming along quite nicely. It was during an informal meeting within her father's solar the day after Brienne's arrival to discuss the lady knights role and position in Winterfell, that she brought up something that was niggling at her.

"I heard from Jon a while back that Tyrion Lannister visited the wall and will need to travel back through Winterfell to journey south again. I was wondering if you knew when he would arrive as it seems to have been quite a while" She inquired casually. Sansa had been patient she had but it felt like every day that approached she became more nervous and filled with anticipation. She had admittedly forgotten he would be back at Winterfell and she was fraught with nerves and eagerness to see him one last time.

Lady Catelyn frowned and it was Robb that answered her, "Oh the Imp left yesterday Sansa. He only stayed for a few days before he left quickly again. It was he that had the idea for making that special saddle for Bran. I haven't seen Bran so happy since he awoke" He smiled.

Sansa was frozen. Her mind had gone blank.

"Sansa, are you quite alright?" Her mother asked, looking quite concerned. It took Sansa longer than she cared to admit to calm herself.

Sansa composed herself and turned back to her mother and brother with a smile, "Yes quite, just thinking. I was hoping that perhaps I and Arya should begin our lessons quite soon and perhaps invite young Meera Reed to join us" She commented.

It was only later, in the safety of her chambers, that she did weep in agony at the thought of her husband slipping through her fingers.


	14. Chapter 14

Sansa panted and ducked as Arya's wooden sword swung forcefully at her. The barrage just kept coming, making her wince as a particularly nasty swing caught her until she heard Brienne shout. The courtyard was quite empty with the exception of Meera Reed standing quietly at the side and the Stark girls two direwolves sitting peacefully beneath a tree with their eyes closed. It had been this way since most of the guard had ridden with Robb on his travellings across the north. Sansa had suggested he visit and come to personally know each of his minor Lords and bannermen. Father had approved and he has been missing for over seven months but is due back quite soon, his return being delayed by Autumn snows.

"That's enough" Brienne called out and walked over. Arya looked exhilarated with her wild dark hair tied back and looking completely at ease in her training gear and grey eyes sparkling with victory. Not that Sansa was much competition. She was still shorter than her older sister but this only made her swifter and more deadly on her feet.

Almost two years Sansa had been training and was nowhere near the skill level of her younger sister and Lady Meera. The girls were more evenly matched though Arya was faster and Meera stronger. Arya was usually the victor to her pride. Lady Reed had become quite muscled while Arya was lean, impossibly fast and beginning to develop a grace that even Lady Catelyn admired.

"Excellent as usual Arya but you need to be careful leaving your left flank exposed. If Sansa had realised this she would have had a good chance at bringing your down" Lady Brienne warned but with a warm smile to her younger sister. The knightly lady was also adorned in her own training gear, looking every inch the fearsome opponent. It had taken a very short time for the men to start looking at her with respect upon her arrival by witnessing her raw skill.

Arya simply scoffed and pushed her sweat slicked hair back from her flushed face, "Like that will ever happen" She declared quite honestly. Brienne shook her head at Arya's arrogance but smiled anyway.

Sansa was sometimes quite envious of the relationship between them. They had found a kindred spirit in each other and Arya utterly adored and admired Brienne, the fearsome non-traditional lady. Sansa was still quite close to the older woman as she was officially _her_ sworn shield but the other girls had a level of commonality that she couldn't breach. Lady Stark approved of the impeachable and rigid stances of honour and justice Brienne held in addition to the woman was quite effective in calming Arya down. Her little sister had matured in many ways and had just started her monthlies a few weeks ago.

"Alright Arya, you and Meera can take a quick break and then get more practice on your bow" Brienne said and then gently placed a hand on the youngest Stark girls shoulder. Arya groaned but complied and walked away with Meera. Arya was not brilliant on a bow, the Stark sisters were almost equal in skill when it came to archery as it was a talent of Sansas.

Sansa watched her sister go thoughtfully, "You shall be good as Arya if you keep practising" Brienne kindly stated.

She laughed lightly back, "It is dear of you to say Brienne" She turned to the woman she viewed like another sister, "but I know this is not my talent nor ever will be. I simply wanted enough knowledge to defend myself adequately" She explained. Sansa would never be a master and was only passably competent if you were being generous. It was enough to defend herself so she was quite pleased. Nevertheless, she was never was without her small dragon glass dagger, her sworn shield and of course, direwolf Lady.

Brienne nodded in response. Sansa had said such things in the past but Brienne always seemed to feel a little guilty that at Sansa's lack of skill at wielding a sword as if Sansa herself might feel inadequate. It was very sweet.

Sansa felt the sweat clinging to her skin start to turn cold in the wind and decided to change her attire before supper. Her training gear was more feminine and made of richer materials than her sisters. Brienne began to follow but Sansa shook her head and directed her to keep training with the girls as she wasn't needed.

Sansa whistled and Lady's eared perked up before the great beast rose and obediently followed her mistress. Lady was fully grown now though the smallest of all the wolves. Nymeria and Shaggydog were the most troublesome though none had attacked anyone as of yet. Lady was docile and calm always at her mistresses side and did not drag dead animals from a hunt like some of her sibling's wolves did.

Sansa made her way silently to her chambers, the servants not batting an eye at her training attire and unkempt state anymore as it was quite typical for her to be dressed as such. Two mornings a week she practised to keep her agility up and skills sharp, much less than her sister but Sansa had other duties to attend to.

Entering her chamber, she immediately stripped her clothes and washed quickly, donning a beautiful grey and royal blue gown and braiding her hair so it hung down her back.

As she was tieing the ribbon to bound her hair she heard the rattle of hooves and men shouting. Moving towards the window, a beaming smile lit her features as she watched Robb's contingent of men enter the gates.

Hurriedly donning her cloak, she raced as quickly as she could whilst still remaining dignified and made her way outside to greet her brother, Lady at her side easily keeping pace. Arya was already in Robbs arms by the time she reached him and she was laughing whilst Robb crinkled his nose comically at her state. Arya pulled back to smack him with a smile. Lady Catelyn was more dignified but still pulled her first child into her arms and had a warm beautiful smile that one would only see on the face of a mother. Grey Wind was now huge and could be scratched behind the ears from Robbs place on his horse. His wolf immediately bounded off with Nymeria and Summer. Sansa heard a whine from her side and motioned with her head for Lady to join them. She raced after them, men fleeing the way in terror as she ran.

Sansa approached, trying to not be so obvious in her delight. Seeing Theon Greyjoy from the corner of her eye she smiled warmly at him and greeted,

"It is wonderful to see you again my lord" She said not so genuinely. It was true that their relationship had improved as her result of wanting to keep a close eye on him but she would never be terribly fond of the man that betrayed her kin in a previous lifetime. The fact that he was still terribly arrogant, prideful and full of spite at times was not lost on her either.

He smiled at her and even moved to embrace her. She complied but inwardly was not too pleased. Sansa was almost a woman now, just about to turn ten and four and it was not so appropriate to be hugging men that were not kin. Especially unwed men at prime age to be wed.

Sansa pulled back and approached Robb and saw her mother's eyes radiating disapproval towards her.

"Sansa!" Robb shouted and lifted her from her feet to swing her around gleefully. She laughed childishly and clung to her brother happily.

"It is wonderful to see you Sansa" He announced, blue eyes staring warmly into hers. Robb leant forward to say to her quietly, "Your ravens and advice were a great relief. It was quite daunting trying to behave in the 'proper' way in front of my future bannermen. Mother was also helpful but you were a bit less condescending" Robb pulled back to wink at her. She laughed in response.

The moment was halted as Ser Roderick approached with a grim face, "Lord Robb, what shall we do with the prisoner?" He asked.

All signs of levity fled Robb's face and raised himself to say, "Escort him to the dungeons, ensure that he has all his needs attended to. We will question him tonight" He ordered. The knight nodded and left, calling out orders to the other men.

"Prisoner?" Her mother asked the question on her mind with a frown. Arya still lingered with a curious face. Robb cleared his throat and nodded, looking grave, "Yes, perhaps we should discuss this later" He looked every inch the great Lord he would one day become. Sansa smiled but Lady Catelyn still looked a little troubled.

"Very well I shall inform the cooks and have a nice meal for you and your men prepared, Robb" She said and then left. Arya had gotten bored and was now chatting off to the side with Meera and Sansa was about to join them when her brother halted her with his hand on her arm.

"Sansa" He said softly and looked a little unsure, "We have brought a young girl back with us. Would you mind terribly setting her up in a comfortable room and making her feel welcome?" He said looking quite pensive.

Sansa was curious but of course complied.

The girl in question was around her age and had the dark hair of most northerners. She was pretty but plain as most smallfolk were. The girl looked terrified, would not speak and almost trembled when the Stark girl approached. Lady Sansa had good intuition and believed there was a connection between the girl and the prisoner. Her fears were confirmed later that night when herself, Robb and mother sat in the Lord's solar;

Robb rubbed the bridge of his nose like their Lord father did when stressed, "He claims it was not rape and she will not speak a word of it but..." He trailed off, looking uneasy and a vaguely ill.

Lady Stark and herself exchanged looks, "I... I was the one to find them. It... it did not appear to be consensual. She was weeping, begging and..." He stopped as he looked darkly furious. A look she had seen on Jon's face many times.

Robb continued, "I shackled the man and brought him back. He says nothing, not even to tell us his name. I tried, as have many others to get a confession out of the girl but she will not speak to anyone and trembles at the approach of anyone. I was hoping you could try and convince her to speak, Sansa, she might listen to someone near her age" Robb implored and Sansa was incredibly proud of his unwavering sense of honour and justice.

She unquestionably agreed. It was tending to the girl that memories from the previous lifetime haunted her once again. The girls type of scars were familiar. Very familiar. It was with dread and small anticipation that she sneaked with Brienne into the dungeons that night to see the hauntingly familiar face of one Ramsey Bolton.

It was both a horror and great opportunity to have caught such a monster though Robb was unaware. Sansa immediately used this to her advantage and to serve swift justice. With the contacts she had acquired across the North she sent out queries for information on the prisoner. She was not disappointed. His name was Ramsey Snow, bastard son of Roose Bolton. Tales of his monstrous hounds, raping, hunting of young girls, _flaying and castration_ reached Winterfell's walls. Sansa gathered witnesses and brought them to Winterfell. It did not end there, for she also found that the boy was the consequence of _rape_ as his father demanded the tradition of the 'First night' where a woman's maidenhead is taken by their Lord before their husband. It was revenge for the woman was wed without Lord Bolton's permission. He raped her beneath her husbands hanging body. It was also reported that he had cut the woman's brothers tongue out to ensure no one would spread the tale.

But there were other ways of finding out information than speaking, she knew. Sansa had gathered the families of two of the girls that were hunted and slaughtered by Ramsey as witnesses. She had five young boys that were rendered eunuchs, four girls that were raped and brutalised and many other witnesses.

In the end, the case against the bastard was simple. The questions into the Lord of the Dreadfort were more complicated. He was a cunning man that hid his tracks well.

But she was better. It was difficult to garner a witness who would confess that their Lord raped the women in his land but the eventual witness was old and had been a guard for many years without any kin. He had little to loose. Much gold was spent to keep the witnesses in Winterfell and Robb did not see the need for such amount of testimony but her mother was wise and recognised her plans for what they were.

When the trail took place the people from all over the north came to see their future Lord Starks justice in action, her father granting his blessings from down south. The many testimonies horrified the public and by the time Robb sentenced him to death, smallfolk and nobles alike were ravenous with the need for vengeance. In keeping with the Northern tradition, Robb carried out the judgement himself in front of the cheering crowd. Ramsey Snow's head rolled from his body in a rather unremarkable way, though you would not think so from the adoring crowd. Arya was eager, Brienne pleased and her Lady mother had a grim satisfaction but Sansa was the only stone faced person present.

It reminded her too much of the first death of Ned Stark.

Afterwards, Robb was hailed a hero as he commanded Roose Bolton's presence in Winterfell to call for his crimes. In the end, the snake had found a way to prevent punishment and was instead sent to the Wall. Sansa was not pleased with this development but there was nothing that could be done. It was obvious to Sansa that this would cause problems later but Robbs public declaration that he would bring justice to any man that committed crimes even if they were loyal bannermen won the hearts of the north. He had become a hero.

Just as she had planned.

It was on the night after the execution and during the celebration feast that a young boy approached her, looking nervous.

"Lady Sansa, here... I've got... there's" He whispered, eyes darting about the hall. Not too many people took notice and when she recognised the boy she stood and left the room immediately.

That night she had read a reply to the letter she came to regret sending.

 _Dear Lady Sansa Stark,_

 _I must say that I had not intended to write you a response. You are a Stark and daughter of the man who overthrew my families dynasty to I felt I did not owe you anything. I believed that my silence on your foolish letter was quite enough to assuage the debt I might be in for the knowledge you gifted me with._

 _I have had subsequent time to rethink my position._

 _Let it be clear that I am still not pleased in the least as I cannot comprehend why you would do such a thing. A part of me believes you to be a great imbecile and other that you are quite cunning and are trying to play me. Then again, I have to take into account your age at the time and even now you are barely out of childhood and unless it was the Stark's idea to contact me then I can safely conclude that you are not trying to use me in any manner as you have nothing to gain and everything to loose._

 _I do feel a sense of gratitude and bitterness towards the information you gave me, however, for there is no way I can see to contact these family members of mine from the other side of the world. It was rather impressive that you managed to get one into my hands to be truthful and even gave me an option to reply._

 _I have told not a living soul of your letter. I must confess that it has given me many a night of contemplation and after much pondering, I can only assume you were being completely honest and truthful. I do not believe you to be a fool and for your honesty, I shall give you some of my own._

 _I wed the great Khal Drogo and became pregnant with his babe. My own brother, in his greed and lust for power, tried to threaten me to bring my husbands men to his side. He failed and lost his life as a result. I have been the victim of evil sorcery and lost my child and husband but gained three new children and a new determination and thirst for my birthright._

 _For my three children are newly hatched dragons. You were correct in saying that fire runs through my veins as ice does yours. I have decided to return to my homeland and take back my rightful spot upon the Iron Throne that was Usurped from my family._

 _No doubt you are skeptical but I have confidence you will not reveal this to Robert Baratheon or your father who I've heard is acting as Hand of the King as it will only reveal your own indiscretions. I have three dragons, my bloodriders and an army of Dothraki at my command and I will have more when the time comes._

 _I will return to my homeland and reclaim my birthright, it is only a matter of time. Risky and foolish as it was I am indeed grateful for the information you gave me. In return I am willing to strike a bargain with you, my Lady._

 _When I reclaim my throne, I shall not punish or condemn any of your blood kin. This includes your father, Eddard Stark, for the reason alone that I owe him a debt in raising my nephew for me and keeping his identity hidden. Though I will, of course, consult with him to ensure his fair treatment growing up and I make no promises if you have been dishonest to me or he has been mistreated in any way. I shall pardon your kin for the crimes they committed against mine._

 _In return, I would like your confidence. Your father is Hand of the King and you are the daughter of both the North and the Riverlands. Whatever information you can bestow upon me will be remembered. I need allies and I desire to run a peaceful kingdom, the more people that bend the knee to me will mean less bloodshed and war. Your family may keep their birthright if you can do what you can to aid me and my conquest._

 _I understand that you have loyalties so I acknowledge the limited amount you can offer without betraying your blood. Bestow upon me as much information as you can and when the time comes do all in your power to help me reclaim my throne._

 _Although I claim I shall not punish the Starks for crimes commit against me in the past, this offer will not hold to any committed whilst I take back my Kingdom. You have been warned. If I discover that you have misled or been dishonest with me in any way, I shall not forget and my retribution shall be swift and final._

 _This offer is very generous and you have much more to gain than I. Reflecting on your letter I realise that I should not hold any grudge against you as you are no more a product of your blood's past than I am and we in actuality share blood ties through my nephew. I am anticipating the day that I can meet my nephew, Jon._

 _Think upon my offer and I await your response, my lady,_

 _Daenerys Targaryen, the first of her name, The Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea,_ _Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men and rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms_

Sansa had stopped in her tracks, heart thumping and eyes wide. This... was _exactly_ what she needed. A slow Cheshire grin grew on her face that was more likened to her husband's house than hers and if anyone had seen her, the Stark's girls eyes would have been glittering with satisfaction and triumph.

Things were going exactly as planned.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey so this is my second time jump. This chapter is my longest yet I think and I was going to make it two but changed my mind. The next few chapters will be each a day at Riverrun so some will be longer than others. I did this to avoid confusion and I think it flows better instead of having each chapter roughly the same length.**

 **Things will be happening quicker now so if there's any confusion let me know and I can try to change it so it makes more sense. I am so grateful when any blunders are pointed out to me.**

 **I don't know if you all noticed but in my last chapter, I accidently signed Dany's letter as, 'Queen of the anals' instead of Andals. It was so embarrassing when I found out so thank you to everyone that brought it to my attention. I am so happy you did. I don't know if it was a typo or bad spell check but I'm glad I fixed it.**

 **I hope you all enjoy Sansa's interactions with varying characters in this chapter as much I enjoyed writing it.**

* * *

Sansa tried to keep her face pleasantly blank as she suffered the aches and pains on her thighs at the continuous motion of the trotting mare working away at her unused muscles.

Her mother rode to her right and Brienne to her left and a little behind her as befitting her station as sworn shield. Lady, her beloved direwolf, trot at an easy pace directly beside her mare. It had taken quite a while for her horse to not buck her off in fear of the very large predator. Lady Catelyn had grown to easily accept the role of the wolves part in her children's lives as more and more wildlings had started travelling throughout the north only to attack on sight. Jon had been telling her more and more of the threat of the free folk and Mance Ryder, King beyond the Wall. Action would need to be taken very soon but Robb could not do anything without father's approval and the Protector of the North was too busy down south.

It was on one unfortunate day that a group of wildling men had attempted to capture herself, Arya and Meera Reed when out of a ride. Fortunately, Brienne was present and with the skill level of the three girls, they defeated the men. Unfortunately for her, Sansa was not as skilled at battle and did not carry her weapons aside her small dragon glass dagger and two men had captured her, managing to slice her back with their crudely crafted blades. That was until Nymeria and Lady ran to her rescue.

The direwolves had subsequently started hunting down all wildlings entering their lands. Summer and Grey Wind were the most competent as they never mauled or killed their victims and Lady mostly ran to report to the nearest Stark.

Her mare jostled her harshly for a moment, making her quickly grab the reins in fright.

"We shall be arriving soon, Sansa, just a little further" Her mother's voice was trying to be comforting but it did not ease her aches. She wished she was as competent on a horse as Arya.

"Tell me more about Riverrun mother" She asked, hoping to distract herself from the pain. Lady Stark smiled and told her tales of her childhood.

Sansa, her mother, Brienne and a small contingent of guards including Ser Roderick were the only ones attending the eagerly anticipated tourney at her grandfathers home. Robb had Lords business, Greyjoy was training new recruits, Arya had started training the younger children and was helping Sansa in her trades with the free cities and the procurement and production of dragon glass weapons. Excellent with figures, her sister was. Rickon had started to show interest in following Robb around but Bran had been his usual contemplative and quiet self, uninterested in most things.

The tourney she had suggested and plotted over three years ago was _finally_ going under way. It seemed like in this timeline things were progressing at a much slower rate for whatever reason and she was extremely pleased with this development.

Sansa's lady mother was pleased as the Usurper King himself was attending with her father and Lady Stark had not spent any substantial time with her husband in the last few years. Most of the important players from Kings Landing were attending. Sansa would not admit but she was quite pleased Ser Jaime would be present, their reluctant correspondence had become somewhat of a tentative friendship over the years. Her last letter from him had read,

 _Dear Little pup,_

 _Your father is preparing for the journey to Riverrun and making arrangements for the royal entourage. He has left directions for all those on the small council, Lord Vary's and Baelish in particular though the latter's lips did curl in annoyance reading his list of duties. Lord Vary's looked quite amused._

 _Myself and the entirety of the Kingsguard aside from Ser Arys Oakheart and Ser Barristen will be attending, so you shant fear my lady, I shall be present to crown you Queen of Love and Beauty when I am the victor as I proposed all those years ago._

 _My darling sister and her children will also be in attendance much to her ire. She believes it is below her to attend such an event as she takes the naming of a new temporary Warden of the East as a blemish on Lannister honour for I had not been named despite my having no blood relation to the East or Arryns. So please do excuse her foul mood when you do meet._

 _I confess I am quite eager to become acquainted with the fearsome beast you keep as a pet. Tales of the savage but obedient creatures you have given me has stirred my sense of curiosity. I am happily anticipating the Kings reaction to such a beast._

 _No doubt you are quite eager to see your first tourney, perhaps even brows for a future husband? If I am correct in thinking, you are very near marrying age, aren't you my lady? Do not fret, I shall be present to dissuade any overly eager knight from your company as no doubt your father will be quite busy. I shall kindly warn you of impending suitors and have great enjoyment watching you fend them off, I recommend sending Lady on them or your strange Knightly Lady you call a sworn shield. You should be aware that I intend on challenging her to a duel, do not be surprised, I must be sure my little pup is adequately protected after all._

 _The next time we speak shall be face to face, I am very curious to see how much you have changed in the last years._

 _Yours Truly,_

 _Sunshine._

Sansa tried not to smile as she thought of her friendship with the odd man. He had embraced the name Sunshine she had given him and try as she might she could not help but be charmed with him as sometimes he was so painfully like his brother. Jaime sometimes implied troubled tidings with his twin, of course, he never actually revealed any private information but the small snippets and hints of frustration with the Queen piped her curiosity and satisfaction. It took many many years into Cersei's madness for her twin to finally abandon her. Even then it was only with Brienne's endless help to guide him towards his honour.

Sansa prayed every night that Tyrion would be present. Her future husband had been quite wayward by travelling constantly back and forth between Lannisport and King's Landing in the last few years. This was not unusual for him but his travels had become very frequent. Lord Stark had remarked to his daughter often how unusual the little Lord was but when the Lannister did indeed give advice it was invaluable. Her father was a little frustrated and puzzled at his the sparse information and service given but did not question it as it was not the Lannister's duty to do so. Especially when the Hand had not been yet able to abide by his assurances that he would make Lord Tyrion Master of Coin. Sansa knew why Tyrion sparsely stayed in the Red Keep, it was a shrewd and brilliant way to ensure nobody knew Tyrion and the Hand of the King to be allies. Of course he gives helpful advice occasionally but that is in Tyrion's nature and does so with the King as well, it is not out of character. Lord Stark remarked often in his letters that most of Tyrion's advice was by Raven and not when he was present in the Red Keep. It was wise to keep people in the dark about the comradeship - not that it was a secret to all most likely - but as it held no danger and nothing had become of it, people will most likely not think much of it.

Though eternally grateful for the aid Tyrion had given her father, her reasoning was more to get her father familiar and hold a certain respect for the Lannister before she attempted to instigate a marriage. It would still be tricky but less so if her father did not outright despise him.

But that is not why she was eager to see him, she was in a perfect position to begin her relationship with him. Not official courting yet but he must at least show an interest in her before she begins to plan on their coming betrothment and now was the perfect opportunity. Tyrion was smart and would find a way out of the marriage if he was not so inclined, the only reason it happened previously as he was backed into a corner and had literally no choice.

"Lady Stark the gates of Riverrun is just ahead" Ser Roderick announced to her mother, much to Sansa's relief.

They are finally arriving at Riverrun and she was eager to see her father, happy to see Ser Jaime, anxious to see Tyrion and of course curious to meet everybody else.

They had found out of the journey south that the King had arrived before their small group and Sansa was told by her mother to be properly presentable that morning for the King, meeting her Grandfather, Uncle Brynden and being reunited with her father again. Sansa was scraping at almost marrying age and she could understand her mothers reasoning though she disliked it.

She donned gown of Stark grey and white with direwolf embroidery, making her red locks gleam all that brilliantly in contrast. Her hair was fixed northern style and she was sufficiently warm in the autumn winds with a lovely thick grey cloak. She decided to keep her hood up to stop the wind getting to her hair. Her locks were half up and down by braids and the rest lay in soft waves down to her waist. It was a northern look she was going for as she was so painfully Tully most of the time.

It was the first time she had looked so grown up as she didn't often bother with elaborate appearances as she was still mostly a child anyway. When Lady Catelyn say her daughter, her eyes swam with tears.

The journey from the inn that morning was not long and Sansa had brushed and washed Lady's fur so that it gleamed in the sunlight. Her Direwolf looked very impressive and Brienne was dressed in the new armour that Gendry had made especially for her.

Lady Stark was, of course, dressed to the nines as well, looking every inch the great lady. Though adult in mind, her heart thumped and childish nerves overtook Sansa's body as they entered the gates of Riverrun to finally be reunited with her father and her to show her first appearance with the players down south.

Lady Catelyn rode at the front with Sansa to her right and Brienne trot a little behind her. Ser Roderick was to her mothers left and the small contingent of guards trailed behind them. They had all slowed down to a steady pace when entering the castle gates. Sansa watched the formal assembly of people at the entrance to the castle waiting to greet them. She peered at the group from beneath her large hood where she was safely hidden from prying eyes.

The King was the easiest to spot. Robert Baratheon with his large beard and larger girth. He was tall and towered over most men, and standing at his side was someone who did not look nearly as impressive but was much more welcoming sight, her Lord father Eddard Stark. Sansa smiled - thankful no one could see her - at the image of her father. His hair was as dark as ever and perhaps looked even paler than he did up north. He looked older and wearier, no doubt from the strain of running the realm.

Renly Baratheon was also present with Ser Loras standing at his side, looking beautiful and imperious in his luxurious green robes. They were the most stunning people present and that included the Whore Queen herself. It was startling to her to see Gendry's face donned in such elaborate Baratheon coloured clothing. The resemblance between Gendry and Renly Baratheon was incredible. Sansa was secretly glad Arya did not attend for she would have been shouting this similarity out immediately.

The horses slowed down further as they approached the group and Sansa allowed her mother to take the lead, with Ser Roderick at her side. Sansa continued watching the people assembled. Joffrey was present and taller than she remembered him being, still with a pretty face that looked a tad more masculine with sharper edges and plump lips. Quite attractive but Sansa could never for the life of her be attracted to the vile boy due to her past. He was a young man now, however, and that left an uncomfortable feeling swirling in her gut.

The Hound was present, scowling and looking the exact same, charred flesh and all, standing in boredom behind the Prince. Not far from Joffrey were his mother and her other children. Cersei was pure reality and elegance though her face read disdain, superiority and an arrogance that was quite unattractive.

Ser Jaime stood beside his sister, brilliant golden armour glistening in the sunlight, looking radiant and proud. His white kingsguard cloak adorning his shoulders. To her surprise, although the twins stood together as if to present a public front there was a small amount of distance, an almost an invisible barrier that separated the two. A lump of iron felt to be weighing her heart down as she did not see Tyrion's welcoming squashed and smirking face. If he was not present and it appeared unlikely he had attended at all. Sansa steadied her uneven breathing and tried to remain calm, it was foolish of her to assume he would be present.

Her mother's kin was not hard to identify. A man in Tully colours and elaborate robes stood proudly with red hair and an easy smile. She assumed he must be her uncle Edmure. Ser Brynden Tully stood beside his nephew with a smile on his lips and wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. Though he was old the strong way he carried himself took years off of his countenance. Many guardsmen surrounded them that she could not identify but were most likely Tully men. Lord Tully himself was not present, that struck her as odd and important but she ignored for the moment.

Finally, there was the contingent of men from the East. Standing proud and tall was Yohn Royce, the man of the hour surrounded by men from the Vale. Lysa Arryn stood a little behind them all, looking old, plump, haggard but still dressed elegantly with thin lips and shifty beady eyes. It was _very_ clear her presence was forced. Sansa tried to hold in a smirk as she thought of the woman's surprise when she learned what would be happening to herself and her son very shortly.

It was _extremely_ hard work to halt Lord Stark from jumping to immediately seek justice for the murder of Jon Arryn. Especially when he worked with his murderer every day. Though she had convinced him by making promises, Lady Arryn would feel the first phase of her justice for the crimes she had committed very soon. Her son, young and very frail, clutched at his mother's long robes and trembled. He was smaller than Rickon though he was years older. Poor boy did not know that he would soon be separated from his mother.

Lady Stark halted her horse and everyone behind her stopped. She gracefully stepped down and immediately made her way towards her father. The King stepped forward with a smile to greet her, "Cat" he said kindly and she returned his smile and friendly embrace dutifully.

"Your Grace" She replied, Robert rolled his eyes, "Just as bad with the courtesies as old Ned here, it's Robert" He replied easily.

Her mother nodded absently - but clearly not in agreement - when her attention was drawn away from the King to the Hand of the King that had stepped forward.

Watching her mother and father be reunited was beautiful. There were clear relief and joy in their body language and anyone could see how much they loved and cherished each other. It was the type of reunion she had envisioned for herself and Tyrion.

Sansa was a little distracted by watching her parents and it was with an uncomfortable realisation that she noticed that _every_ single person present was staring directly at her. Her hood was still up to hide her from view but her heart beat very uncomfortably and she felt very nervous. Why were they all staring?

Brienne trots up to her side, on the other side from Lady, "Lady Sansa, I believe that everyone is staring at Lady. Perhaps you should show them she means no danger" He quietly advised her.

Realisation dawned and she felt quite foolish. Indeed many men were now pointing arrows and were gripping the pommel of their swords in fright. It was amusing to watch. The Hound had stepped forward and the Prince was - not quite cowering but something close to it – behind him. The queen looked enraged, all beauty had melted from her face in the face on disgust and outrage. Ser Jaime had green eyes a little wide but drowning in amusement and King Robert looked alarmed and startled. A few stared in morbid fascination.

Lysa Tully's near panic-induced state was the most amusing, literally hiding her son in her skirts. The rest of the knights looked wary and threatened.

Formal introductions then commenced and everybody from her entourage was introduced. Brienne garnered a few curious looks but not nearly as much as her direwolf. As she was the second highest in station, it was her cue to be met next. Sansa pulled her hood back and allowed herself to beam as brightly as ice sparkling in the sun's gaze. She could feel several people now staring at her but she only had eyes for her father.

Ned Stark looked up, his face softened and grey eyes were kind as he looked upon her. Sorrow was also etched as he must have realised how much she'd grown in the years past. She truly looked like a woman now. He moved forward as her mother had silently moved and now stood with her Tully family. Sansa couldn't keep the beam off of her face as she watched her father.

" _Father"_ She breathed in joy and in the most dignified manner as she could, dismounted her mare and rushed into her father's waiting arms.

"Sansa" He said quietly but full of love. Sansa relished in the feel of her father's embrace. He was as warm and comforting as he'd always been. He smelled the same and his warmth made her forget everyone around her. It was then that she had realised how much she missed him despite their regular correspondence. It was with a pang of sadness that she realised she could no longer tuck herself so completely into his arms as she had become much taller.

Pulling back, she continued to smile up at him in adoration. Her Lord father raised his hand and brushed some hair from her face with a sad smile, "You've grown so much since I saw you last. You look beautiful Sansa, just like your mother" His face with bittersweet, it seemed he was feeling guilty as if he had neglected his family. He was wrong.

Sansa continued smiling but pulled back, even more, to cup his face in between her hands, "And you father... you look positively terrible" She tried to frown but a smile kept creeping up onto her face, "You look ten years older! So weary and tired. You've been working yourself into an early grave, haven't you?" She lightly scolded but joy at being in his presence did not make her voice sound as reprimanding as she'd intended.

It was then she remembered everyone around her for most people laughed at her comment. King Robert's booming laugh was the loudest and she blushed as she remembered the crowd.

Stepping away from her father, she smiled bashfully at the King she was intending to overthrow, "Please excuse me, your grace, it has been quite some time since I've seen my father" She then curtsied politely. The King smiled at her, though she did note how his blue gaze roamed and lingered on her form.

At that moment, Lady decided to trot up to her mistress and immediately swords were unsheathed and arrows pointed in their direction. Her father frowned and moved closer to her as if in protection and her grand-uncle also stepped forward in preparation.

Sansa decided to wilfully ignore the atmosphere and ran her fingers through her direwolfs fur. Lady came up to her breasts but the wolf did bow her head a little to allow her to touch her more comfortably. The whole crowd had backed off and were staring in alarm.

Lady whined and Sansa nodded her head with a smile. The wolf happily – but slowly – moved towards Lord Stark, sniffed his hand in curiosity before rubbing her head affectionately against his chest. Her father smiled faintly and returned the affection with an ear rub much to the fascination of the crowd.

Sansa turned to look directly at King Robert who looked part ways horrified and fascinated at her wolf. Sansa whistled a little and Lady immediately moved back to sit docilely at her side, "Perhaps you remember my direwolf, your grace, her name is Lady" She introduced with a smile and nervous heart. No one would be killing her dear friend this time. Especially not _this_ man.

The king was still wide-eyed and appeared not to know what to say. Sansa turned to her wolf with a hand laying on her head, "Lady this is King Robert Baratheon" She said calmly.

The crowd obviously thought she had taken leave of her wits but to the astonishment of everyone, the great beast rose and then bowed it's very large head to the ground in a mock way of bowing to its king. Sansa intended for this to be a welcome to Dany but no matter, this would do as well. Her dear friend was as eager to meet Lady as she was the meet her children. Kinship with their families animals was the first commonality she shared with the Targaryen Queen.

Sansa smiled at the current King, "You see, your grace, she is very well trained and I can assure you she no danger to anyone unless I am threatened" her eyes started trickling across the assembled men. Renly Baratheon looked as amused as his older brother at Lady's bow. The whore Queen appeared utterly disgusted, her children looked fascinated however and Ser Jaime sent her a cheeky grin and a wink when she looked at him. The Lords of the Vale all looked threatened and haughty but Ser Brynden Tully looked amused and her mother both amused and exasperated at her. Her uncle Edmure still looked alarmed.

King Robert peered at the bowing animal and laughed again, looking at her father, "I had forgotten about these beasts you had given your children. They certainly grew big didn't they?" He commented, still eyeing Lady warily.

Sansa continued smiling and petting Lady's fur, "They are direwolves your grace. It is very rare to see them this side of the Wall. Lady is in actuality the runt of the litter though she is the most well-behaved. Hence her name; Lady" She explained patiently.

The King still looked incredulous but laughed again and shook his head, "The smallest one eh?" He repeated a little dubiously. People were still aiming at the wolf so her father moved closer to her and to stand on the other side of her wolf.

Lady perked up and moved her head from her hand into her father's. Sansa felt faintly embarrassed when Lady reached up to _lick_ her lord father's face in front of _everyone_.

" _Lady"_ She scolded. The wolf's ears dropped and she dipped her head as in if guilt. Sansa sighed. The King laughed yet again, this time many others joining in. Her father wiped his face with a mildly displeased look but appeared mostly amused.

"Seven hells, stand down everyone. It seems like Lady Sansa has her beast in hand. No one is to harm the wolf unless they are attacked first, am I clear?" He announced. Immediately men dropped their weapons, some still wary and others scowling and glaring.

Sansa would need to keep Lady by her side if she wanted to ensure her survival.

It was shortly after all necessary introductions were made that the crowd dispersed, allowing Sansa some privacy to be introduced to her maternal relatives. Sansa shouldn't have been so nervous but she was. Her Uncle Edmure was a weak man by all accounts and memory. She had never forgiven him for marrying a Frey, though it was rather hypocritical for her seeing as she had wed a Lannister. Though she was inordinately fond of her grand-uncle.

Lady Catelyn Stark frowned as she watched her sister Lysa quickly disappearing with her son in tow, blatantly disrespecting the Stark's present. Sansa hoped the woman would continue acting in such a dangerously foolish manner, it would only benefit herself. The Lady of the Vale was certainly not endearing herself to her father.

Her mother approached with Ser Brynden and Lord Edmure on each side with a proud smile planted firmly on her face. Sansa had her father firmly by her side, everyone but Sansa had met previously so this was mostly for her benefit. Her Uncle Edmure's gaze kept flickering to her wolf warily, much to her amusement.

"Sansa, this is my younger brother and your Uncle Edmure, heir to the Riverlands" She motioned to the younger man on her right and he sent her a small smile. Sansa saw the resemblance to Robb if she looked closely. The hair and eyes yes but personally she found Robb more charming and attractive looking, he had recently grown a beard that was more dark than red. He secretly thought it made him look more Stark. He was correct in his beliefs.

Sansa smiled back genuinely at the man and gave a curtsey in greeting, "It is wonderful to meet you Uncle Edmure" She chirped and Lady automatically bowed at her side. Sansa heard her Lord father huff in amusement at the gesture and Ser Brynden Tully's lips twitch. Her mother, however, sighed, "I did not know you had taught Lady this command and I am both suitably mortified and impressed Sansa, perhaps you should stop this before someone sees this as an offence" Her Lady mother told her with a warning look.

The Stark girl just smiled at her mother calmly, "Thank you mother but I am certain it shall be fine" she replied kindly, ignoring the negatives of her remark and gentle command cheekily with a serene face and smile. Her mother frowned at the hints of disrespect she'd shown.

The Blackfish smirked and moved forward, "Don't let your mother fool you, she was the exact same at your age. All kind smiles and grace in the face of what she believes in. I can see the same stubbornness in you" He said but with a kind voice and he moved forward to embrace her. Sansa accepted to hug from the great-uncle with a smile and feeling of warmth.

"Uncle, perhaps this is not the appropriate time" Lady Stark did not look too pleased with the barb but eyes were still smiling in warmth towards her family. Ned Stark had moved to stand beside his wife, not quite touching but it looked like they both desperately wished to. It was both sweet and nauseating to Sansa.

Sansa smiled up to her grand-uncle, "Yes, the time for embarrassing stories of childhood shall be later at supper when we can get to know each other properly" She beamed at her mother. Lady Stark's face was radiating disapproval but Ned Stark was fighting a smile. Lord Edmure laughed a little and praised,

"Oh I like you, finally a Stark with a sense of humour eh?" He noted happily and in amusement. Her father raised an eyebrow to Edmure in response. The heir to the Riverlands averted his eyes embarrassedly, Sansa tried not to snicker at the exchange. The small group began walking into the castle from a side gate at a leisurely pace. Lady continued to trot obediently at her side.

Ser Brynden was all smiles, smirks and amused faces as they walked "Quite right. I can see that you get your charm from your uncle" He remarked with a smirk towards her father. Lord Stark snorted and shook his head at the comment and Lady Catelyn turned to give a look to the Blackfish.

Sansa ignored the comments to look at her grand-uncle curiously, "Oh? Shall I not address you as grand-uncle?" Sansa asked but already knew the answer from her previous lifetime.

Sure enough, the man winced, "Heavens no, makes me seem old" He said. They continued walking and were lead directly towards the family quarters of the castle she assumed from the lack of guests and only servants flittering about. The castle was admittedly beautiful.

Sansa fought her smile, "I see, well dutifully ignoring it will surely keep you youthful Uncle, fret not, your looks have not yet started to fade" She commented airily and then looked at her father, "Strange lot, these southerners, aren't they?" She muttered quietly.

Her father laughed and agreed wholeheartedly whilst her mother shared a look with her own brother that said, 'northerners'. They then began walking up a large flight of stairs.

Her Uncle Brynden shook his head, "I shall take it as a compliment" Her Uncle remarked pointedly to her. They then seemed to have stopped at her chambers. Sansa was surprised, it was particularly lavish and beautiful. The Stark girl had somewhat expected to receive standard rooms with so many visiting guests it would be difficult to arrange the best for her. She was apparently wrong.

Walking into the room, she blinked and looked around. There was a huge four-poster bed adorned in rich blues and red cushions. The room _screamed_ Tully as most of it was adorned with their house colours and sigils. Sansa slowly approached the huge glass windows to see a stunning view of the river below. She idly watched the river's current and smiled.

Turning back around she saw her family watching her from the entrance to the room was varying looks. Her mother and father looked happy and proud, eyes filled with love. Her Lord father had a hand wrapped gently around his wife. The Blackfish looked at her kindly with a smile and a little curiosity. Lord Edmure was smiling but gaze moved from her to the rest of the room.

Her mother stepped forward, "This was my chambers back in my childhood, I thought they would be the most appropriate Sansa" She smiled at her daughter. Sansa moved forward to embrace her mother.

"They are beautiful mother, absolutely stunning. Thank you" She replied, a little choked up. Her father moved forward and gently placed his hand on her shoulder in comfort.

Her father spoke, "Brienne's rooms are to your left if you need her"

Sansa beamed brightly at her father and nodded happily, she then moved to hug him again, once again remembering how much she had missed her dear father, "I really missed you" She said quietly in his ear.

Lord Stark hugged his daughter tighter and rubbed her back, "I know, I missed you too Sansa" He answered back.

Sansa was then left alone for a while to rest for the feast later. She was weary already at the mere thought and was thankful for a few hours on her own to relax. Sansa explored her room a little and saw her belongings had already been brought up.

She was surprised to see a very large assortment of white and grey cushions and blankets in the corner of the room but her heart melted with love when she saw Lady trot over happily and promptly lay down and close her eyes comfortably. Sansa had expected to feel homesick and somewhat out of place like she occasionally did when travelling to a new place but these small touches showed that although this wasn't her birth place, it could still be a home to her. With her family.

It was then Sansa noticed the beautiful extra white blanket tucked into her bed that had a gorgeous grey wolf stitched into it. This must have been a welcoming gift. She then knew how she would spend the afternoon.

The Stark girl sat contentedly the next few hours by the large windows, quietly humming and stitching some silver trouts to swim elegantly and gracefully around her direwolf.

* * *

Sansa was interrupted hours later by a knocking on her chamber door, "You may enter" She called distractedly. Her father swept into the room and walked over to her side, taking the seat beside hers and smiling at the adjustments made by her.

"Never was someone such a mixture of both of their Houses" He commented. Sansa smiled and gently placed her work down to give her full attention to him.

He began, "You are not getting ready yet? There shall be a feast tonight to celebrate your arrival. Autumn winds kept you and the King would have been most displeased to delay his tourney" He commented.

Sansa sighed, "You mean, Lord Royce's tournament?" She corrected automatically.

Her father's mouth twisted a little, "No I meant Robert's tourney. When you suggested this I did not realise it would take so many years. I had begun to think that it would never happen"

Sansa watched her father and felt her heart break a little at how tired and weary he looked, "I did not see grandfather present at the welcoming. Is there a reason for this?" She asked, already having an inclination of what was wrong.

Her father frowned further and sat back with a sigh, "Yes, I am afraid to tell you that your grandfather has fallen ill. His fever is high and the maesters are doing all they can to help" He explained.

Sansa nodded and felt a pang of sadness. It was most likely the same ailment that took him in the previous lifetime. She knew him to be ill for a very long time before he passed. She was glad her mother was here to see him before he was gone.

"How is mother?" Sansa asked her father. Ned looked out the window,

"Not taking the news well I'm afraid. She is at his bedside right now and begs off the feast. I'm afraid you and I will be required to attend but I can take you to him now to introduce you before..." The Lord trailed off here though it was obvious what he was to say.

 _'before he dies'_

Sansa nodded and stood, "Very well. Lead me to him" She said and her father stood to immediately begin leading her through the halls of Riverrun. Lady looked up as she left but rested her massive head down again with a yawn.

Sansa nodded and smiled appropriately to those she saw on the way. She did not recognise the Riverland men but they did recognise her with her very distinct Tully colourings.

Eventually, they were lead to the most opulent and highest tower of the castle that she assumed to be the Lord of the Riverlands private quarters. Her father raped swiftly on the door.

"Enter" The Blackfish's voice called out.

Sansa entered to see her lady mother grief stricken and staring sadly down at a man laying on a large bed, sweat covered and muttering. His hair and beard were a white grey and looked frail. It was obvious to even her he was on his death bed. A Maester hovered on his other side and dabbed his forehead with a cloth.

Ser Bryden frowned and hovered at the foot of the bed. Sansa stood in the doorway uncertainly. Lady Catelyn stood and turned to look at her,

"Come Sansa, you should meet your grandfather" She said quietly. Sansa approached her mother with a gentle urging from her father and sat down where her mother was seated previously. Lady Catlyn stood and tugged on Lord Tully's robes.

"Father, father, wake up, there is somebody I would like you to meet" She spoke gently. Immediately Hoster Tully's eyes opened and looked directly at Sansa. She could see the fever and madness settling into him through his glassy gaze.

" _Cat"_ He sighed happily with love on his face. Sansa felt uncomfortable at his mistake and sadness gripped her.

Her mother piped up, "No, father, this is Sansa, my daughter" She explained patiently but grief strangled her tone a little.

The Lord of the Riverlands blinked back and forth between her mother and herself in a dazed state and Sansa did not think he would fully understand. His eyes flittered back to Sansa and remained there,

"Cat..." He repeated. Sansa felt nothing but pity and sadness, she had seen many people die but had never mourned the loss of her grandfather. Perhaps she should have.

"Cat..." He chanted and lifted a hand up to touch Sansa's face gently, almost reverently, "You look so much like my little Cat" He said hoarsely and Sansa smiled shakily in response and held her hand up to touch his, not knowing what to say.

Thankfully, at that moment the Blackfish stepped up and sat on the end of the bed with a smile, "That she does, acts just like her too. She's too good humoured to be like a Stark" He commented with a wink her way but the sombre drop to his shoulders was very telling.

Hoster Tully's chuckle turned into painful coughs and was given a sip of water by the maester. There was then a knock on the door and her Uncle Edmure entered the room looking downtrodden and pained.

"How is he Cat?" He asked quietly and moved to stand beside the maester. Her mother huffed and looked furiously at her brother, however.

"Do not even _think_ to speak to me. I cannot believe you did not inform me of the severity of his condition" She fumed, justifiably indignant.

Her uncle's gaze dropped to the ground sadly and did not speak. Hoster Tully spoke up, "Don't fight... not now" He wheezed and then coughed again. It was clear this was all taking a strain on him.

Her mother pursed her lips but did not speak when he choked out, "Lysa... where's Lysa" Everyone in the room looked to Edmure. He shook his head slowly.

"I... she refused to come" He muttered quietly, "She does not wish to catch father's illness, her son is already so sickly and fears that it may-" He began only to be cut off by Lady Stark.

"-Then she can leave her son for a moment or two to say goodbye to her father _on his death bed"_ Her voice cracked as sharply as any whip, blue eyes flashing in danger.

Edmure held his hands up in defence, "I am only relaying the message Cat" He responded defensively.

Her mother was not appeased, "You should have still brought her here, _whether she refused to or not"_ the woman then stood tall, straightened her skirts and nodded to her uncle and brother.

"Come, we must bring Lysa to see father, it is cruel that she has not visited him once in the time she has been here. There is more to this than fearing for the health of her son, I swear it, and I intend to find out what. Are you both coming?" She was tall and proud commanding the men in the room like they were her bannermen and not her kin. Sansa was proud, she only hoped that she could command the same presence. The three Tully's swept out of the room.

Sansa exchanged a look with her father to see his worried face. Yes, both her parents _knew_ what was wrong with Lysa, Sansa had confessed it to them years before. Her mother was still in some measure of disbelief but her father stood by her wholeheartedly. They were aware she murdered the previous Hand of the King and that she had sullied herself with Petyr Baelish and had her child aborted by Hoster Tully, Sansa had sung this tale to them both previously. This was her mother's way of providing evidence of Sansa's story, however, and her father's first step at achieving justice. It was messy but necessary.

The chamber door banged open once more with Edmure Tully entering first, followed by Blackfish and then her mother who had her arm clasped tightly around her younger sisters arm. A younger sister than was mildly struggling and sneering. The next few moments would determine much about the coming future.

Sansa had stood and moved beside her father on the edge of the room to be in a position to watch and observe the Tullys and not be directly involved. This was not a Stark matter. Lord Stark gently wrapped his arm around his daughter in comfort as he stood.

" _What is the meaning of this?_ Do you know how dangerous it is for me to be here? What could happen if my poor Sweetrobin falls ill from the diseases ridden in here? If he has so much as a sniffle you will all pay dearly" The woman hissed and panted with flared nostrils. Sansa impassively watched the aunt that tried to kill her in her previous lifetime. She would find no mercy from the Starks.

Lysa was as homely as she recalled with wisps of hair on her upper lip, deep wrinkles, watery eyes and thin lips. She was unattractively plump and gown did nothing to flatter her, looking older than her sister. Her luscious red hair was the only beautiful thing about this woman.

Ser Brynden scoffed, "The boy is always sniffling, do not place the blame on our shoulders for your inadequate mothering" He said strongly. Ser Brynden was standing off to the side, arms crossed and disapproval radiating from his countenance.

The Lady of the Vale looked furious at his comment, " _How dare you"_ She screeched and inched towards him threateningly. He didn't even twitch an inch at her behaviour.

Sansa winced as she recalled that tone of voice from just before the Moon door was opened and she was almost killed. Her father's arm tightened around her reassuringly.

Her mother straightened and was watching her sister with a frown, "Enough of this madness, Lysa, we have brought you here to say your goodbye's to father. He may not have much longer" Lady Stark spoke up and looked seriously at her younger sister.

The woman in question scoffed, "Did it ever occur to you, to _any of you,_ that I do not _want_ to say goodbye" Her voice was angry and teetering the edge of hysterical. Sansa peeked a look at her father who was frowning. Hoster Tully was now attempting to sit up and was being aided by the maester in the room.

"What do you mean? Why would you not wish to say goodbye?" Edmure questioned and looked rather confused and angry at his sisters behaviour. He was seated at his father's bedside with his back to the room, almost to show he did not want to be directly involved in the conflict.

The cackle that the woman let out was definitely tinged with madness, "all of you are fools, complete and utter _fools_! I thought you were on my side, uncle, but here you are with _him"_ She jerked a finger towards Hoster Tully and then towards her mother, " _and her_ and _forced me_ to come back here for this ridiculous tourney and away from the safety of the Eyrie!" The woman started to pant and flailing her arms as she spoke.

The blackfish furrowed his brows, "Lysa, it is your duty to come. The king is appointing a new acting Warden of the East, a title that will one day fall to your son and your presence is necessary"

The woman started pacing and shaking her head, "no no no no, it isn't, that title _belongs_ to my sweetrobin, _now,_ the Lannisters _stole it from him._ They all laugh at his frailty but he is _strong,_ he _deserves that title"_ She snarled.

Sansa exchanged another uneasy look with her father. The Stark girl mouthed the word, 'mad' to her father discreetly. His lips were thin and face grave, he did not confirm or deny her thought. In Sansa's book that was as close as Lord Stark would come to agreeing.

Catelyn stepped forward, "Lysa, I understand your reluctance in travelling with such a sickly son but do not let this bitterness stand in the way of saying goodbye to father, I beg of you, do not take your frustrations out on a dying man" She pleaded passionately and even moved forward to take her sisters hands in hers imploringly.

Lysa threw the hands back in disgust, "this is all _your_ fault Cat! If you hadn't of been such a shameless flirt then we wouldn't be in this mess and I would have-" She gasped here and started pacing again with a sneer to her sister.

The room was silent as if not knowing how to response or even interpret this outburst and rush of hostility. Sansa couldn't help but feel a burst of satisfaction and dark joy. Sansa had given her aunt some rope, now to watch her hang herself.

Hoster Tully broke the silence with a wheeze, "Forgive me... forgive me Lysa... gods forgive me... I thought I was doing it for your own good... foolish...forgive me" He ended in a cough and groan of pain.

Lysa Aryn swung around to her father with wild eyes, " _Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! You killed him. You killed my son"_ The woman screamed, her shrill voice echoing off of the walls.

The room was silent again and Sansa felt her father's arm tighten on hers yet again. Sansa watched as Edmure sat back in shock, Ser Brynden and Catelyn Stark shared a look between themselves worriedly and silence descent on the room like a fog.

Her Uncle Bryden stepped forward to his niece and asked strongly, "Killed your son? What madness is this? I don't know what tales or lies you are trying to spin Lysa but-" He began, displeasure sharpening his voice. Lady Catelyn meanwhile had made eyes with her daughter in shock. Sansa watched as her mother looked hesitantly towards her, eyes almost searching with disbelief lining her face.

Sansa deliberately nodded her head an inch to her mother.

Catelyn Stark's eyes swam as she looked away. It was one thing being told something so unbelievable and another to hear it confessed before you.

" _no no no no, y_ ou probably knew all about it, didn't you? just a drop of tansy, mint and wormwood, a spoon of honey and pennyroyal father said" She began to mutter. Sansa kept the smile threatening to erupt on her face.

Immediately, Ser Brynden Tully's spine became stiff as a board and his eyes widened in horror and disbelief, _"_ What! _"_ he breathed, eyes darting now to his brother and anger now clouded his gaze.

Sansa watched everything play out calmly.

Lady Catelyn and Edmure did not take anything from her mutterings and once again her mother stepped forward to try and calm her sister, "Lysa please, calm down, let us help you" She implored, her sisterly affection shining through.

Lysa glared at her sister and forcefully _shoved_ her away. Sansa's father immediately dropped his arm and inched forward ready to intervene. Lady Stark stumbled and then stared at the Lady Arryn in disbelief.

"Lysa, what are you doing?!" Edmure called and moved to stand beside his eldest sister, now turning on Lysa.

The Blackfish had moved to his brothers bedside and was muttering to him quietly... and angrily.

" _don't you dare touch me you whore_ " Lysa screeched, her countenance twitchy and volatile. The Tully siblings looked on disbelief and the Blackfish was frowning as he stepped forward.

"Lysa none of this is Cat's fault" He stated plainly.

The woman laughed a breathy hysterical giggle and shook her head rapidly, "Yes it is, _yes it is_ uncle! You all thought she was so perfect. So bloody perfect but she's not!" She pointed an accusing finger, "She led poor Petyr on for _years_ and teased him. I gave him my maidens gift! You just _used him_ and you _still got everything!_ What did I get? I got a batch of Tansy tea and a disgusting old man"

The room had gone silent again. Hoster Tully spoke up, "That wretched boy... not speak that name to me, your duty... your mother, she would... Oh, gods forgive me, forgive me" He began chanting, clearly distraught.

" _And you"_ She swivelled round to her Lord father and eyes burned with a hatred one did not see often. The next few moments were a surprise to Sansa though she should have truthfully anticipated it.

"You will not kill another one of my sons!" She snarled and charged forward to her father. The room didn't respond, too much in shock but when the light gleamed off of a blade, realisation dawned on her. Sansa stumbled forward to do something though she was furthest away.

Lysa Arryn slashed her blade across her fathers chest violently. The Blackfish strode forward with the reflexes of a knight and lifted her around the waist to forcefully drag her off of the Lord. Sansa's mother began pressing her hands into the wounds frantically, red was swiftly covering the bed and her hands.

The forgotten Maester had now stepped forward and began treating the wounds with her mother chanting prayers, tears falling from her eyes. Edmure Tully stood bewildered in the centre of the room eyes darting from his youngest sister trashing in their uncle's arms and his father who was choking and restlessly moving on the bed.

Sansa decided to now step forward.

She edged towards her aunt that was trying to buck off the Blackfish and crept behind them both only to grab her own dragon glass dagger and forcefully bring the handle down to her hysterical aunts temple. The woman immediately stilled and sagged in Brynden's arms, now being held up.

" _Sansa"_ Her father's voice was reprimanding. The panic that settled in the room dispersed as Lysa's screams died out and it was announced that the wounds were not too deep and the bleeding had stopped. The cuts were being cleansed and everyone seemed to take a breath of relief.

Sansa looked to her father, "Pardon me but no one was doing anything and she was much to hysterical to be reasoned with. She was also still armed" Sansa's eyes were now trained on the bloody blade that had clamoured to the floor.

Everyone in the room seemed to take a moment to look at it.

Sansa decided that she needed to take charge, "You should bind her to a chair for a moment and allow to maester to tend to her" She muttered as the woman was still partially held up by the Blackfish.

"Sansa" Her mother said in a disproving voice, clearly not liking her suggestions. Sansa sighed and said, "Mother, Aunt Lysa is clearly too hysterical and not in the right mind at the moment. It will keep her from attacking anyone else in the room"

Her father and grand-uncle immediately sat her on a chair and began to bind her with rope, though still quite gently. Sansa then looked directly at her grand-uncle, "Uncle, do you care to tell us what Aunt Lysa's ramblings were about?"

The Blackfish stood after finishing his task and frowned at her, "What makes you think that I know of anything?" He asked her with an odd look.

Sansa desperately tried to keep the smirk off of her face, "The immediate flash of realisation and shock on your face when aunt Lysa spoke of Tansy tea. What is that?" She asked, already knowing. Sansa wished to the gods she could make a jape about _why_ her uncle knows about teas that prevent pregnancies but held her tongue. If Tyrion was present he would not have had the same restraint.

To her eternal amusement the Blackfish flushed, her father frowned deeply, uncle Edmure looked away and mother glared at her grand-uncle. It was all too much.

"Well?" She asked expectantly.

Her grand-uncle shifted, "It is a particular brew used by women to abort and... prevent pregnancies" He mumbled.

" _Ser Brynden"_ Lord Stark's voice cracked, quiet and deadly. He looked utterly furious at the Blackfish for revealing this information.

Sansa tried, but she could not help it.

She laughed. Loudly and a little uncontrollably. The entire room, including the maester looked at her curiously.

"My apologies, it's this whole situation" She snickered and shook her head.

The room continued to look at her, "It is just really awkward, isn't it? The fact that you seem to have such... intimate knowledge of ways to prevent pregnancies uncle that's all" The humour and amusement was shining through in her tone. Her uncle's face stained red and mouth opened to look at her in shock.

Sansa continued, "And the look on your face father" She then laughed again, "It appeared as if you half way wanted to strange uncle Brynden with your bare and the other half cover my ears in horror" She continued laughing.

Her Uncle Edmure laughed with her before the rest of the room spun to glare at him. He closed his mouth but continued to snicker.

"Sansa. This is no laughing matter" Lord Stark looked disappointedly at his daughter.

Sansa smiled and moved to touch her father, "Calm down father-" She began only to be cut off.

"-No. I do not think you grasp the severity of the situation Sansa. Your aunt just attempted to murder Lord Tully and I do not want you knowing of such tricks and cheats of ways to better dishonour yourself" He stated, darkly furious with a look towards her grand-uncle.

Sansa muted her smile down a little, "I am sorry father but there is no need to fret. I have Brienne and Lady. Do you know that Lady does not allow any man within three feet of me? Truthfully, she growled at Gendry before I left as he tried to hand me something"

Ned Stark watched his daughter with a frown but his eyes softened as she continued talking, "Good. That is why I gave her to you" He stated.

Sansa held in a snort.

Her lady mother cleared her throat, "Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand?" She frowned at the two Stark's. Her father deflated at the remembrance.

"Of course mother, Ser Brynden will you please let us know why Lysa is so full of hatred towards her father and would do such a heinous thing?" She asked.

Ser Brynden sighed heavily and looked at his brother for a long moment. Hoster Tully was unconscious and wheezed in his sleep.

"I believe... that Lysa may have sullied herself and... my brother may have forced her to... get rid of the baby" He said very quietly.

Edmure Tully gasped. Lord and Lady Stark's eyes flew to their daughter, both in surprise. Although her father came to believe her and her mother, to a lesser extent, finding out just how correct she is was no doubt a surprise. It was proof of how knowing she was.

"With whom?" Edmure Tully bit out and began to pace.

The Blackfish paused and sighed, "Young Petyr Baelish, I believe she said" He continued speaking in muted tones.

" _Littlefinger"_ Edmure Tully gaped with wide eyes.

Her parents moved and were now flanking Sansa on either side. Sansa, pretending to be ignorant, "Who is Littlefinger?" She asked, stopping a smile from creeping onto her face. Justice was most definitely sweet.

Her great-uncle moved to sit on his brother's bed, appearing weary, "Lord Petyr Baelish of the Finger Islands" He stated blankly.

Sansa looked to her father and mother before speaking, "The master of coin in Kings Landing? _That_ man?" She frowned, acting ignorant.

"Yes" Bryden Tully tightly replied.

The room was silent for a moment or two before Sansa boldly said, "She is an attempted Kinslayer" The whole room almost flinched and appeared if they desperately wanted to deny it. Except her father who stood tall and grim and he accepted the situation.

Sansa continued, "I understand how difficult it all is for you but she needs to be brought to justice" Her voice was strong and clear.

"Quite right Sansa. When she awakens we will question her and find the most suitable course of action" Her father said in the same strong voice she had used.

The maester was sent to fetch smelling salts to wake the disgraced woman and Sansa touched her father's arm and squeezed it so he would look at her whilst everyone was distracted by the mutterings of the woman waking up.

'Confess' She mouthed to him. An indication that he should try to get Lysa to confess to the crimes of murdering her late husband as well. Her father nodded seriously to her and moved forward. Ned Stark paused, looked back and frowned thoughtfully at her.

"Sansa, I do not think you should be here for this. You have been exposed to too much already. I think you should go ready yourself for the feast" He told her.

Sansa's mouth dropped open, "But father-" She started to beg when her mother cut in.

"Your father is quite right, Sansa" she said with a glance to her daughter. It was clear things were about to get ugly but Sansa needed to stay to manipulate things to her advantage.

"Sansa, I shall fetch you when it is time for the feast" Her father said, effectively dismissing her.

Sansa paused to look bewildered at her father but he was now staring at the mad woman and not her. Frustrated and feeling belittled Sansa stormed from the room.

She made her way swiftly to her chambers in a foul mood. How could her father dismiss her like that? She who knew so much? How could she ensure that her father would do nothing too foolish and immediately report to the king? This was the first major step she was making in her game and he just cuts her out after _years_ of meticulous planning? No, she was not pleased.

Entering her chambers Sansa took a moment to compose herself with deep breathes. There was no use in letting her temper rule her there was nothing she could do now but prepare for the feast. She was no Cersei Lannister.

Sansa took another few moments to calm as best she could. Lady slumbered peacefully in the corner of the room unaware. A look to her faithful companion did wonders and she was ready to prepare herself. Sansa called for the maids and asked for a bath to sent up. She then searched her bags for the gown that she had made in preparation for her arrival and introduction to the court.

It was with all her previous knowledge and considerable skill set that Sansa Stark created a gown for this evening. It was Stark colours of course but the gown was predominantly white with varying shades of grey. The material was imported and gleamed like ice in the firelight. The gown itself was nothing spectacular but it was the fabric and way that it hung from her body that made it so remarkable. It suited her tall, curved figure perfectly and showcased her womanly assets without showing anything at all. It could even be called modest by most standards. It had a train that was not very long, nor her sleeves but the many fabrics folded in on itself in a pretty pattern.

Sansa lay this gown on her bed and started undressed as maids fussed about. Her bath was wonderful and skin was rubbed raw. She was slathered in lots of fancy soaps and creams for her long hair. Afterwards, her hair was brushed to perfection and more creams to soften her skin was applied. Sansa felt a pang of sadness that her mother was not present to brush her hair as usual.

The maids fitted her into her gown and tied the laces. She dismissed them as she intended to do her own hair in another northern fashion. Some of it was up but the body of her hair hung to her waist in a sleek river of red. No jewellery aside from a single leather necklace that has a direwolf pendant carved from the branch of a weirwood heart tree. She wore it at all times and it was honestly a stunning piece of craft that was made especially for her by one of the eunuch's she had gathered as a witness. He did not have much but made her this in gratitude and she had never felt more proud of herself. The boy was only eight years old.

A knock on her chamber door startled her out of her retrospection. She stood and cleared her throat,

"You may enter" She said coolly. Her father entered the room and paused to look at her. He smiled a sad little smile and eyes looked pained.

"You look beautiful Sansa" He said gently. Sansa stood tall and kept her face impassive.

"I thank you father" She replied in clipped tones. Her lord father frowned and shut the door quietly behind him. He regarded his daughter for a moment or two.

"I understand that you are cross with me Sansa but I believe it was for the best that you were no more involved" Sansa's pursed her lips and jerked her head in response, uncaring for his platitudes.

Lord Stark's frown deepened. Sansa asked her father, "What did Aunt Lysa say?"

Ned Stark sighed and moved further into the room, "She confessed to the murder of Jon Arryn at Lord Baelish's behest. A potent poison named tears of Lys"

Sansa nodded her head both relieved to get a confession and anxious about what was being done with this information, "And what have you all planned for justice?" She asked with a frown, worried they had already informed the king. Robert Baratheon was a man with a fierce temper. Telling him something of this nature was never a wise idea.

Her father sighed and moved towards the windows to watch the sun set, "We are undecided. I shall inform Robert after the tourney is finished and we shall seek appropriate justice for Lord Baelish when we return south. As for Lysa... we are undecided. She is still Lady of the Vale and has a young son" What her father did not say is that King Robert would most likely not show the woman mercy.

Sansa nodded her head curtly, "Yes, well, I suggest that you keep her here at Riverrun. Claim it is due to ill heath. This is not untrue as the woman has clearly gone mad. She is an attempted Kinslayer and had committed high treason. Keeping her imprisoned in the luxury of her family home is more than she could wish for. This will also keep any shame and dishonour from both the Tully and Arryn houses. They do not deserve to be shamed for Lysa's misdeeds" She explained.

Lord Stark nodded his head and looked troubled, "Perhaps this is the best course of action" He admitted reluctantly.

Sansa tried not to let her irritation bubble to the surface, "Yes father, I would have suggested such a thing if you had allowed me to remain in the room" She said pointedly in a displeased tone.

Her father sighed again and turned around to frown at her. He approached her slowly, "Sansa, I do not think you understand" He said gently.

Sansa furrowed her brows, "Oh I understand quite perfectly _father,_ you believe me too young and sensitive to be involved in these matters. In fact, I understand more about this situation than you do yourself so do not try to make me out to be a fool" She raised her chin and looked defiantly into her fathers eyes.

His face deepened with displeasure, "This is exactly why I dismissed you Sansa" He sharply replied and stood back from her, "Do you not hear yourself? You are no god, you do not know everything nor should you. You have been blessed with this knowledge that may do a lot of good but you are too involved and seem to be manipulating it to your own advantage. Sansa, you were completely inappropriate in that room and did not grasp the severity of the situation. Yes, I think you are young and did not understand fully but I do not think you are a fool. So stop behaving as one" He stated strongly, the closest he had ever come to reprimanding his daughter.

Sansa paused and let her fathers words sink in. It was true, she had started to get over her head and full of herself. She sighed and looked down, arrogance was the fall of many great men and here she was finding dark glee at the suffering of her aunt. She needn't start acting like the people she despised and years of teetering on the edge of honour and duty was apparently too much for her father. It seemed he has been holding this in for a while.

She let out a long breath, "I am sorry father, you are right. It is... difficult trying to handle this information I know appropriately" She confessed.

Her lord father moved to embrace her gently, "I understand daughter but please do not let it change you or control who you are. This is a gift and now it is your duty to show that you have earned it"

Sansa smiled at the very Ned Stark statement he had made, "Come, Sansa, we had better be getting to this feast. You will be formally announced I'm afraid but I shall be at your side at all times" He smiled comfortingly at her and she smiled back.

Her father escorted her to the hall where the feast had just started. They were a little late but not inexcusably so and when they appeared before the large doors a flutter of nervousness filled her gut.

"Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Hand of the King accompanied by Lady Sansa Stark daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully Stark" The guard announced.

Sansa watched the doors open to the bustling and filled room that all turned to watch her entrance. Sansa allowed a small smile to grace her features as she held her fathers arm. The room was silent as she was led by her father to the King's table at the head of the room. On the left side of the room was the River Lords with Edmure and Brynden looking melancholy and to the right was the Vale Lords, looking proud and dignified. Sansa noticed she passed the Hound seated at the lower tables and he stared unblinkingly at her as she walked by. His gaze was so strong it was practically a caress, she shivered minutely.

Sansa almost groaned when she noticed her positioning at the table. There were only two empty seats put together. One was beside King Robert which was obviously her fathers but on the other side of the empty seats was Prince Joffrey, the little shit. Sansa ignored the young man who sat up straighter at her approach and was most obviously eyeing her form. On the other side of Joffrey was his mother who looked distastefully at her and her green eyes practicality glowed with disdain. It would be a long evening.

Ser Jaime lingered in the background behind his sister, standing out with his golden armour. She caught his eye and he winked at her. Immediately she relaxed a little if only it was appropriate to be seated with the Kingslayer and she could speak with the knight. He would be much better company than the Monster Prince and Whore Queen.

Sansa sat and smiled at the King in greeting. He nodded back to her with a smile and immediately engaged her father in conversation.

"Lady Sansa, it is a pleasure to meet you again" Joffrey's voice was all pleasant charm but Sansa could see the vileness that was lurking in his swirling eyes.

She nodded her head to him, smile dimming a little, "As it is for me Prince Joffrey. Are you enjoying your stay at Riverrun?" She questioned and immediately poured herself a goblet of water and began gently picking at her food, though, she did not think she could stomach much seated beside the incestuous bastard.

"It is adequate I suppose. Very windy in this region of the land I must say. Are you looking forward to seeing your first Touney Lady Sansa? We have many of them down in Kings Landing, I have lost count to how many I have been to" The boy smirked at her a little with a haughty expression.

Sansa took a sip of water and smiled at the pompous spoiled little shit, "That is wonderful my lord, it must be so terribly exciting for you" She said with mock intrigue.

The boy seemed to puff like a peacock, "Indeed it is my lady, it is a shame you have never been. You should come visit your father soon. Though I hear things have been quite interesting up North, that bastard who was terrorising the north was beheaded by your brother, was he not?" He asked, genuine interest lacing his tone.

His mother cut in on their conversation, "Joff dear, I don't believe Lady Sansa wishes to tell tales of beheadings at dinner" She smiled at her son and touched her arm to nudge more to her side a little. Joffrey had leant closer to her in the beginnings of their conversation. This did not bode well.

Joffrey jerked away and scowled at his mother. Sansa immediately interjected, "I do not mind Prince Joffrey. It was a very publicised event after all and many already know the tale" She said to lessen the anger. She did not wish to see if the spoiled shit had a temper as bad as he did in her previous lifetime.

Joffrey turned around to smile charmingly at her and Sansa felt disgusted at herself so recognising his attractiveness. He looked to be more like Ser Jaime now that he aged though he still resembled his mother most strongly. He was nowhere near as handsome as either of his uncles, however.

"Did you see the beheading?" He asked eagerly and a sick pleasure almost lit his features, Sansa nodded carefully "Woman are usually too weak to see such things" He commented as if this was a compliment to her, "It must have been enjoyable to watch the bastards head roll" He said with a wide smile.

Sansa kept her frown minute but tried to give a tight-lipped smile in response, "It is true I saw the beheading but I felt no joy, only a sense of satisfaction that such a monster was brought to justice" She answered carefully.

The Queen snorted very quietly into her goblin, "Spoken like a true Stark" She quipped with a sardonic smirk and sharp eyes.

Sansa smiled serenely back at the Whore Queen, "Thank you, your grace" She bowed her head as her smile widened.

The Stark girl heard a cough that suspiciously sounded like laughter from behind her. Joffery meanwhile was nodding his head, "There is no shame in being too weak hearted" He said with a satisfied look, again, as if he was meaning to compliment her. She wanted to reply that there was in fact shame in feeling joy at witnessing someone being killed but held her tongue.

Meanwhile, it seemed like more people were picking up interest in their conversation. Princess Myrcella leant forward with wide eyes and fascination on her face from her mother's other side, "I heard that Robb Stark carried out the execution himself, is that true?" She asked, seemingly a little infatuated with her brother.

She was amused but kept it hidden, "Yes my lady, it is"

"Why?" She asked with confusion and intrigue. The girl had grown and was now a young lady. She had probably flowered and was definitely to be a stunning young girl once she had grown. All the beauty and none of the bitterness of her mother as Tyrion had told her.

Joffrey scoffed at his sister, "Because it is his right. When I am king I will personally carry out my own executions as well" He boasted with a long look towards her. Sansa was not even a little impressed but smiled dutifully at the Prince anyway.

"That is wonderful my lord, I pray that you do" She said and then looked towards Myrcella kindly and answered her question, "It is a northern tradition, my lady. We do not have paid executioners. This is because we believe that the man to give the command must swing the sword. Hiding behind other men to carry out justice only makes us forget what death is. If you cannot look someone in the eye as you end their life then maybe they do not deserve death" Sansa recited the speech her father gave to his sons many times previously. By this point, a large amount of people were listening to their conversation. Sansa noted Cersei's eyes roll rudely at her comment.

Sansa turned to smile at her father that was watching her, "Isn't that right father?" She asked.

Ned Stark nodded at her fondly, "Yes it is Sansa. I could not have said it better myself"

Robert Baratheon then chimed into the conversation after taking a long swing of his goblet, "Is this about that bastard that was beheaded by your son, Ned? I heard that he was a horror, committing crimes across the whole of the north. You must be really proud of your son" He said before biting into some meat.

Ned Stark nodded in response. Sansa peeked at Joffrey to see an ugly jealousy pass over his face.

"I must say it is quite brave of you Lady Sansa to bare witness to such an event. Did you not feel pity for the bastard that was beheaded in front of you?" It was Renly Baratheon that spoke. He was not quite near her but near enough to listen in and speak. It was not comfortable speaking to a man so far away and she did not appreciate the amusement shining in his eyes. It was very condescending.

She looked directly into the face that looked so much like Gendry and calmly replied, "It was my brother's duty to bring justice to Ramsey Snow. It was my mothers duty to approve of the sentence. It was my guardsmen's duty to bring him forth to Winterfell. My duty, however, was to tend to his victim's. I spoke with and gathered testimonies from families of the children he savaged by his hounds, the boys that he tortured and rendered eunuchs and the young women who were brutalised for months on end. So to answer your question, my lord, no, I felt no pity'" She answered calmly and then took a small bite of her meat.

Sansa took a peek to her father to see him looking equally sad and proud and Joffrey smirking at his uncle victoriously for some curious reason.

Renly still only appeared amused, however, "Oh, you took no joy from his death nor pain from the event. What was it then, my lady?" He asked, bemused but also curious.

"Justice" She replied immediately.

King Robert then laughed heartily and slapped her father on the back, "Spoken like a true Stark" He grinned and looked to her.

Sansa smiled back and replied, "Thank you, your Grace, your wife had just expressed the same sentiment"

Robert's good mood immediately darkened at the mention and looked to his wife, almost dangerously and warningly. He cleared his throat then and took a deep gulp from his wine.

The rest of the meal was extremely uneventful with the exception of the occasional barb from the Queen. Sansa brushed off her insults easily, _words are wind,_ and truthfully she was rather flattered the whore saw her as such competition and was so affected by her. Joffrey boasted and spoke of the many things he would do once King, making sure to remind her that he would be King one day. Many people questioned her on Robb, his heroics were well known. Sansa was very satisfied with this and answered dutifully as she could. Many of the questions were in bad taste and wanted to know of the horrors of Ramsey. She would not be going into such details.

"It is a lovely gown you are wearing, my lady" Joffrey praised. He had been doing that a lot this evening. Praising her, she remembered his compliments from her previous life time. They meant nothing.

Nonetheless, she smiled and graciously replied, "Thank you, my lord. It is nothing special I'm afraid. Nothing as lavish as you have in the south"

Joffrey nodded pompously, "Yes, we have the best seamstresses in the whole of Westeros. You should come visit your father and you can commission as many lovely gowns as you wish" He had also been eluding to her visiting her father multiple times.

Cersei cut in again, "Yes little wolf, what you are wearing is certainly very different from the south. Is that pendent your wearing made from stone and not jewels?" She smirked. Sansa raised her eyebrows and clutched her beloved direwolf necklace.

Joffrey made some comment or the other about how she deserved to be adorned with the best jewels in the seven kingdoms but she only had eyes for the Queen.

"Not at all your grace, this necklace is hand carved from the branch of a weirwood heart tree. It was made to me by one of the children that were castrated by Ramsey Snow. He was very grateful but did not have much. He wanted to give me something in gratitude and asked me what I needed. I told him I did not need anything but the fortunate of the old gods and the health of my family. He then made this for me. I have worn it every day since, it helps to remind me what is important in life"

Cersei Lannister did not look as charmed as the rest of the table at her story. Hatred burned in her eyes and her hands gripping her goblet had turned white. Sansa felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and was gently turned around by her father. Ned Stark stared down at the little white sigil of their House. He stared at it and touched it with his fingers in thought. His eyes swam with emotion though she could not identify.

The feast continued on late into the night but Sansa was sent to bed before it finished with her grand-uncle Blackfish escorting her from the hall. Prince Joffrey kissed her hand as she left and she tried not to heave. On the way to her chambers, Ser Brynden laughed heartily as she frantically wiped the spit off of her hand with a handkerchief.

The Tourney would begin on the morrow.


	16. Chapter 16

Ser Jaime woke before dawn the day of the Tourney in a dark mood. He was not enjoying this trip to Riverrun as he'd first hoped. His sister's reaction at being _forced_ to attend this event was explosive. She yelled for days, crashed things, fumed and even smacked him multiple times to relieve her frustrations.

He had expected her to calm down but she did not and it only drew a larger and more awkward wedge between them both. Ever since his visit to Winterfell so many years ago, his sister had changed. ' _Or she was always like this and I'd never noticed'_ he thought traitorously. No, his sister was fierce, adored him and was unflinchingly loyal.

It was the small argument they had in the North he could not rightfully recall that only got worse as he found her in bed with _Lancel._ His sister did not even apologise or show any sort of guilt at her betrayal. After _he_ had only even lain with her. His cousin fled Kings Landing after Jaime had threatened to castrate him but the damage was done. Despite his pain, he tried to mend things with his sister again and again but she only kept pushing him away and using him as a means to release the rage and bitterness that overflowed from inside of her. She used him when she needed a sword. She used him when she needed a man between her legs. And she used him when she needed someone to obediently take the shit that she loved to throw. _Dear_ Robert wouldn't have tolerated it an inch so it was left to him.

It was all very tiring.

He had gone to bed early the night before to stop himself watching Cersei getting drunk again, this time with Joff stumbling alongside her so it was not surprising he awoke at such an early hour.

The only mildly positive aspect of this dreadful visit would be to see the young Lady Sansa again. See her he did. By the gods, she had changed. She had grown up most definitely. The beauty of a child had become the beauty of a woman seamlessly. Still young by his standards but most men will ignore her youth and see only a painfully beautiful woman. It both amused and irked Jaime to see many men staring lustfully at the girl. They did not know how remarkable and unusual she was and her interesting snippets of conversation was only noticed by a few.

Many people remarked of her striking resemblance to Lady Stark but Jaime knew better. Lady Catelyn had the face of a Tully, pink freckles, round-faced with high cheekbones and pointed chin. Lady Sansa's face was more sculpted and resembled the Starks if you looked closer. The little proud girl he had met with flashing blue eyes, striking maturity and plans to protect her brother with a little blade and her pup had grown up. She was everything she was showing to be when he first met her. The little pup was a woman now and he was relieved at least one Stark wasn't as insufferable as the rest.

Jaime smirked as he donned his clothes and washed his face. Oh yes, she behaved every inch the Stark beside her father but was just as sharp and quick witted as any player at the table but politely masked it behind her courtesies. It was delightful to watch. Similarly it was painful to watch his sister try to humiliate the girl with harsh barbs that passed through the Stark like wind. His twin humiliated herself and was not even aware. Loras Tyrell was sniggering most of the meal in glee seeing his sister so wound up. ' _A Lannister always pays his debts'._ He thought darkly.

Jaime left his chambers and made his way outside for some early morning practice before the tourney begun. He was _graciously_ provided with rooms nearer the courtyard with most of the other guards present. Not the guest chambers that those high in station were provided with.

The Kingslayer spent the morning releasing his tensions and clearing his mind with a sword and the many fools that tried to take him on.

Knights of the Vale were starting to fill up the courtyard, dressed up like ladies for the beginnings of the tourney. It became crowded and he did not enjoy being gawked at by greenboys seeking an easy glory yet too afraid to take him on.

As he made his way back to his chambers to bathe and dress appropriately, he took great pleasure in the looks he garnered from the Riverlords and disgust at his sweaty state. ' _Yes, this is what happens when real men train'_ he told a scruffy young squire that openly mocked him. The boy had then turned white as snow and fled. He walked through the main areas of the castle, still uncertain of the back passageways and was thankful as the crowd started to thin and empty.

It was passing through the passageway that connected the guest quarters from the stables that he heard voices speaking loudly. Or one voice rather, of young Joff boasting loudly.

"-Was handcrafted for her by a eunuch boy that she saved. She said that all she needed was the favour of her gods and fortune of her family. Modest isn't she? Unlike those simpering little girls at court that beg me to adorn them with jewels and gold. Utterly pathetic, aren't they?" His voice sneered and Jaime slowed down the listen to the conversation that with echoing through the halls.

"Aye" The voice of the Hound grunted.

Jaime walked steadily to the bend in the corridor and stood, shamelessly listening in, "She's really pretty isn't she?" He heard the shy and timid voice of Tommen mutter.

He heard a scoff, "She is _more_ than just pretty, you idiot. She's not pained up and covered in expensive fabrics and countless jewels like all the ladies in court that makes them think they can hide their ugly. No, even in modest clothing you can tell that's she's high born. Beautiful like her Aunt. Strong too, watching a man being beheaded. I bet _you_ couldn't even watch without crying like a baby" His voice turned mocking at the end.

Jaime shifted and continued listening, wondering if he should reprimand the arrogant little sod.

Joff let out a cruel laughter, "No you _couldn't_ , even if it was somebody that didn't matter like that bastard you'd still be weeping like an overemotional woman. Your still a _child,_ Tommen, _she_ would think you weak and pathetic"

"No she wouldn't" Tommen bravely piped up, "She seems too kind to be deliberately cruel like that"

Jaime was very amused at this point. Poor Princes becoming infatuated with the Lady Sansa. Seems like little Joff has his first crush on a pretty maiden. Robert would be pleased.

Jaime heard a shuffling as if someone was moving, "Yes she would. Lady Sansa might be too polite to actually say it to your face but she would think it. In the north, it's tradition for the Lord to personally carry out all executions. She told me so herself" His voice was loud and bragging.

Jaime bit the inside of his lip to stifle laughter.

"Joff dear" A women's voice crooned, "you cannot take what these northern savages say too seriously. It is unseemly to not have a Justice to carry out executions. A king has more important things to attend to" The voice of his sister became clear.

The Kingslayer closed his eyes and took a calming breath to settle the dread and impending feeling of doom as he knew his very recent good mood would not last.

Jaime Lannister turned the corner and watched as the Hounds disinterested gaze flickered up, looking unsurprised to see him approach before looking back to his charge. Joff and the Queen were standing at opposite sides of the corridor. Joff near the windows and scowling at his mother and Cersei was standing tall and regally draped in a sophisticated crimson gown that was all heavy fabrics and long trains. Her glorious golden locks were braided elaborately sitting mostly atop her head. She was beauty made flesh.

Jaime decided to step in, "Now now sister, do not be too harsh with the boy. It's a good thing he's learning the different customs and traditions of various parts of the Kingdom he will one day rule" he mentioned diplomatically.

The Kingslayer had actually hoped to defuse the tension but it was no secret that this is not at all where his talents lie. He is much better at pissing people off. From the look on his sister's face, he would think he achieved the latter.

Cersei pursed her lips, "Jaime this does not concern you. I do not want _my son_ confused and being taken in with their savagery and uncouth ways of doing things. He is better than that" His sister said sharply. The barb at Joff being her son and not his was not lost on him. Jaime was never allowed to behave in a fatherly manner thanks to his dear sister. Her words were cruel but the distasteful and vaguely disgusted look as she looked upon him in his training leathers and sweaty appearance was the most painful.

Her gaze trailed up and down him making him feel like slime glued to the bottom of a boat. His sister was quite good at doing that – making him feel worthless.

It was Prince Joffrey answered her, "You are just _weak_ mother" This statement was harsh and filled with venom. Everyone present in the hallway paused to look at the young man.

He stepped forward threateningly, "Yes, you're just weak and frail like all southern ladies. Women of the North are stronger and more beautiful, just like father said. You don't understand and are just _jealous_ of Lady Sansa for she is a beautiful northern lady while _you_ are growing older each day. Don't think to give me advice on how I shall run _my_ kingdom" He objected like a petulant child whilst standing tall.

Cersei was beyond shocked and angered but did not speak a word to reprimand the boy. Instead, Joffrey scoffed and turned his head to march away, motioning for the Hound to follow. Tommen stood uncertainly between his brother and mother before he hurried away also, wisely keeping out of this mess as he himself should have done.

His sisters shock was building again into a great rage. The passion and feistiness that he adored in his sister had lately been mostly directed towards anger. It seemed he would yet again bare the brunt of it. She walked calmly to the large windows overlooking the courtyard and stared down at the men.

"Cersei, don't take what he says too seriously. The boy has his first crush on a young maiden, he would think she set the stars" Jaime broke the silence and moved to stand beside his other half warily.

Cersei did not move or speak immediately but when she did turn around her eyes were burning hotter than wildfire and trained on him in hate, "This is all _your_ fault" She hissed and moved towards him dangerously. Jaime was not afraid of the mildly threatening approach and simply stared at his sister.

"My fault? Pray tell what I have done this time?" He asked dryly, wishing he had made his escape with his nephew. Jaime should have been wiser and avoided his dear sister until this dreadful tourney was over.

Cersei's face was all stone and bitterness, "I told you to get rid of that conniving little whore years ago yet you did not listen. Now she has Joffrey under her thrall" Cersei almost spat out at him.

Jaime did not know what to think but his frustration was bubbling under his skin and he let his annoyance towards his sister peek to the surface, "Seven hells, Cersei, she was just a child then. She is _still_ a child and has done nothing to encourage Joff's infatuation. Ned's daughter could be as solemn and rigid as himself and Joff would still take a liking to her because of her pretty face. Give the boy a break, she is the first lady that isn't simpering at his feat. He is at marrying age sister and I'm surprised a betrothal hasn't been made already" Jaimes anger was a simmering rage compared to the explosive one of his sisters. Cersei was irrational, uncontrollable and unpredictable when angry. Jaime was calm, swift and was the only time he truly planned his actions though if those actions had a positive outcome were certainly debatable.

He continued speaking and turned to look Cersei in the eye, "It would be very generous of me to call Joffrey headstrong. You know well as I if the boy is to have any hope at ruling then he will need a good wife by his side. He could do a lot worse than Lady Sansa" He finished seriously.

Ser Jaime shuddered to think of the Starks becoming more involved in the South. One Stark was bad enough but he was telling it true. His little pup would tolerate no bullshit from Joffrey and bring him in line. She was a different kind of lady but perhaps that would prove more effective. Cersei was far too lenient on her first son and he would need a good wife and Queen to make up for that fact.

His twin turned to face him directly and regarded him for a moment. Cersei then approached, hips swaying slowly and pressed her body against his. Jaime took a cursory glance around the halls to see if anyone was lurking about. He could feel her soft firm body through the leathers he wore and smell her unique scent. It had been so long since he had been close to her like this and not just a quick fuck for release.

Jaime closed his eyes and smelled the wonderful and unique scent that was Cersei. She moved and gently pressed him against the castle wall. He sighed in contentment at the close proximity of his sister. Her fingers trailed gently along his chest in a casual but affectionate manner and he felt her soft lips slowing caressing his ear.

Opening his eyes, he could only see a mop of brilliant golden hair bound together perfectly at the top of her head. Jaime's body released all tension and he felt an internal sigh of relief. It was not right to be at such ends with his other half. Cersei was under increasing pressure with Ned's Stark's presence in Kings Landing. The last few years had been trying. Perhaps he should discuss this with Lady Sansa for she enjoys the old wolf's presence in the Red Keep as much as he.

The caresses grew bolder and desire started thrumming through him. He leant back against the wall and allowed his sister to explore the body that she had memorised many times before. They should not be acting as such in a public place but he could not help himself, Cersei was too much for any man to resist.

Her hands trailed down his chest and he felt the first major stirring in his loins. Jaime enjoyed his sisters touches until she finally reached his solid manhood straining against his breeches.

He felt his sister smile against the skin of his neck, "It seems that you still want me Jaime" She whispered. He shivered at the feel of her warm breath on his neck.

"Always" He grunted as she began stroking him expertly. Waves of pleasure tightened in his groin and he shifted into a more comfortable position. The Kingslayers eyes darted up and kept watch on the corridor. They should perhaps move this to a more private place, he thought though he was loath to interrupt his sister's ministrations.

Cersei continued speaking, "I am glad that you can still be hard enough for me when your mind is filled with that little wolf, hm?" She hissed angrily and suddenly the firm and expert stroking became too rough and his manhood was gripped too tightly and squeezed harshly.

Jaime cried out in shock and pain as he forcefully pushed his sister back, outraged, " _Maiden's teats_ Cersei, what do you think you're doing?" He hissed at her, clutching his sore loins. It was not incredibly painful but still ached uncomfortably.

His sister let out a harsh and mocking laughter. She approached him again, this time raising her face to his to look him directly in the eyes and say quietly,

"You are a pathetic fool, Jaime. You have gone soft and weak in your old age and cannot see what is right in front of your eyes. Wolves are invading our home, usurping our power and plotting to destroy our House. I will not allow it. You are as bad as Robert in your fifthly lusting over whores. Lady Sansa is playing everyone here but you are thinking with your cock too much to see what is right in front of you"

Jaime did not know what to say and was still clutching his manhood awkwardly. He stared quietly at Cersei, as an aching sadness settled into him. What had happened to his dear sister? He impassively watched her as she continued spouting her paranoia,

"If you wish to roll over and be fed to the wolves then so be it but I am a lion, a _true lion_ and will not bow down to anyone" She finished, standing tall and proud. Jaime felt a bitter tang in his chest. A stance he would normally look upon with admiration but could not due to the madness falling from her beautiful lips.

She then imperiously swept away with her head held high and composure perfected when it felt like the castle had shattered beneath him. What was he to do about his sister?

Jaime sullenly stalked back down the corridor.

* * *

The day of the tourney Sansa slept in late. She retired from the feast relatively early but spent the next few hours by her grandfather's bedside and tried to calm her irrational Aunt down in an adjoining room where she was held captive by guards. There was a debate among her family members whether to allow young Robert Arryn in to see his mother. On the one hand, it was rather cruel to keep them apart as the young boy wept for his mother and his health seemed to be deteriorating in his mother's absence. On the other hand, young Robert was nine years old now and the size of a six-year-old. He was weak, whiny, spoiled and not raised in a manner befitting Lord of the East.

The boy had died in her previous lifetime and she did not hold much hope for him at this time. Lysa Arryn was hysterical and sprouting rambling about how everyone has turned against her and declaring war on the North and Riverlands with the might of the Vale behind her. This was very dangerous words and they did not want to turn the young boy against the Stark's and Tully's so decided to keep them separate.

The issue of what to do with the mad woman was also a concern. In the end, it was decided that they would have a private audience with Yohn Royce and a few other select members of the East in attendance and explain about the deterioration of the woman's mind and wish to keep her in the Riverlands for her safety. The Blackfish ensured no one would have any issues as they had all seen her irrational behaviour and had been trying for years to separate her from son, believing her to be a destructive influence. They were not wrong in their beliefs.

Sansa was attended to by maids and again wore a handmade beautiful gown in Stark colours for the first day of the Tourney. She was not terribly excited and was more eager to spend time with her father but knew it was necessary. Her mother had begged off the festivities again due to Lord Tully's ill heath and this was the excuse they were using for Lysa also. Edmure's presence was necessary as heir and she would be accompanied by the Blackfish.

It was almost noon when she was finally deemed presentable. Her hair was adorned in the style of the Riverlands, to her slight irritation. Her handmaidens gushed over her beauty but she waved them off. The castle was bustling with life and although she should have waited for an escort, she left her rooms with Lady padding softly her by her side.

Lady Sansa made her way through the castle at the leisurely pace and noted with joy that many of the men eyeing her kept their distance due to the large beast prowling at her side. Lady had almost an intuition when it came to people she did not want to be around, particularly male suitors. She did not allow them very near her mistress. She was a true loyal friend.

It was on her way to the great hall that she came across Ser Jaime Lannister. Sansa saw him approach though he did not see her, eyes focused on some unknown point and lips set in irritation or dismay. He stalked down the halls without notice of her.

"Ser Jaime" Sansa called politely, drawing attention to herself and smiling when the Kingslayer looked up. He was in training leathers and his hair was mussed. It was obvious what he had been doing all morning and she was quite pleased to run into him so soon.

Jaime Lannister looked up and his face lost some of it's harshness and an amused look crossed his face, "Little pup, don't you look every inch a daughter of the Riverlands and the North" He said, sounding impressed though mocking. He sauntered over to her casually.

Sansa walked up to him with an easy smile, "And you Ser... do not look every inch the gallant member of the Kingsguard I'm afraid" She said with a contemplative look and deliberately looked him up and down, "I see you are going for the humble, beggars look. I cannot say it suits you, you are much more suited to your gaudy gold armour" The pair had stopped in the empty corridor and Lady sat quietly at her side.

Ser Jaime chuckled, "Haughy as ever I see. I thought the Northern people were more humble, clearly I was wrong. I thank you for the compliment however. A Lannister does look odd when not adorned in gold" He then smirked. Though his attire was more casual than his usual armour, Ser Jaime's arrogant stance and confident pose clearly stated to all that he was high in station. Everything from the expression on his face to the way he held his shoulders. It screamed Highborn.

Sansa shook her head in fondness, "Very queer thing to be proud of but alright" Jaime just looked amused but the stiff set of his shoulders was very telling. Worry crept up on her. This was her future brother in law. They were practically family, what was wrong with him? Sansa was still feeling residual guilt from her earlier behaviour with her grandfather and aunt. She had seen many people become drunk with power and lose their humanity. She would not be one of them.

"Ser Jaime... if it is not too bold of me to say" Sansa bit her lip hesitantly and approached the man closer to frown and stare at him, "are you quite alright... you seem rather... weary" Sansa finished lamely.

Their acquaintance had always been casual and light-hearted through raven. They did not broach sensitive or serious topics but the man seemed a little different from when she had met him in Winterfell. More tired and walked with a certain strain.

Jaime Lannisters eyes flashed before a mask of amusement slipped perfectly onto his face, "Worried about me, are you little wolf? I assure you I am in perfect health my lady. You shall find out from my performance today" He winked at her cockily.

"I see-" Sansa began only to be cut off by a strong voice.

"-Sansa, what are you doing out without an escort" The Blackfish rounded the corner with his face as stony as any northerner. Sansa felt rather uncomfortable at the look he was sending to the Knight beside her.

"Ah the Blackfish, will you be performing Ser?" Jaime Lannister asked with an amused and skeptical look.

Ser Brynden Tully stood tall and proud beside his grand-niece, continuing to scowl at the kingsgaurd member. Sansa felt astutely uncomfortable at the confrontation between her family and her future husbands.

"No, Kingslayer, I am not. Someone must be present to escort my niece and ensure she is not bothered by the _wrong_ sort" Brynden Tully was very displeased indeed. Sansa had never seen the usually good natured man in such a disagreeable mood.

Jaime Lannister nodded with mock sincerity, "Of course, we must protect Lady Sansa's honour after all. Fret not, as a member of the Kingsguard I will dissuade any overly eager knight from the beautiful young lady's company" His face was almost drowning in amusement at this point. The tension was palpable in the air and Lady nudged her head against her hand in support.

At the implication and remark of her being beautiful, Ser Brynden drew up even taller but Ser Jaime spoke first, "-It is for the best in any case that you are not participating. All knights pass their prime as some stage. There is nothing to be ashamed about" His voice was casual with a slight sympathetic edge to it.

Fire was lit in her grand-uncle's eyes and Sansa _knew_ he would say something back about honour and his skills. The posturings of men were rather tedious. She wished Dany were here so they could laugh about it.

"Uncle, the tourney will be starting soon. We need to get our seats and no doubt Ser Jaime will need to change his attire" Sansa piped up, masking the uncomfortableness she felt.

The Blackfish's eyes flickered back to her and he nodded once before locking eyes with Ser Jaime again, "Very well Sansa. I am afraid Lady cannot come but we can drop her off at your chambers" He spoke calmly but stared continued to stare with hostility at the knight.

Sansa turned and walked back the way she came, feeling sad and missing her loyal companion almost immediately it was strange not to have Lady as a constant at her side. Lady rubbed against her sympathetically. Ser Brynden walked beside her with his hand on his pommel. As they rounded the corner she heard Ser Jaime call,

"I shall see you at the Tourney, Lady Sansa, I will be the one in gold so you know who to favour" He called kindly but with a dark promise in his voice that was purely for winding her uncle up.

A small headache formed in her head and she closed her eyes as she walked away.

* * *

The first day of the Tourney was uneventful and tedious. Lord Royce did not take part of course, though he did sit in a place of honour beside the King and Hand of the King. Sansa was glad that she was not required to sit beside Prince Joffrey that sat on the left side of the king with his mother and siblings. Sansa watched the Prince huff as Cersei fret over him and Sansa accidentally made eye contact with the Hound. His grey gaze was intense and focused as he stared directly at her. A heat trailed up her neck and she looked away bashfully. She was no blushing maiden but the focus in which Sandor Clegane looked at her...

Sansa sat on the left with the Riverlords. Lord Mallister on her left beside his son Patrek on his other side of his father. Patrek Mallister was a friend of her Uncle Edmure, though this did not deter him from sneaking glances at her over his fathers shoulder. Her Uncle Edmure would be taking part in the Tourney, though she held no high hopes for him winning.

Fortunetly for her the Blackfish was on her other side. Her mother was with her dying father and keeping an eye on her unruly sister now that she had to be gagged for she was screaming too much. Lady Stark had also taken to caring for Robert Arryn.

"You don't seem very excited Sansa, smile, this is your first tourney" The Blackfish said. Sansa turned an inch to look at her grand-uncle whom did not seem particularly eager either. Sansa mildly regretting plotting this tourney years ago. Perhaps it was unnecessary.

The Stark girl sighed, "It all seems ridiculous really, this pageantry and splendour when _Winter is Coming_ " She sighed again and watched the men below prepare the field in their well polished armour. Renly Baratheon would be jousting against Ser Ilyn Payne for the first round. Memories from her previous lifetime swam back to her and she hoped Lord Renly ran him through.

Ser Brynden chuckled and placed an arm around her affectionately, "Stop being such a Stark and enjoy the day. I remember your mothers first tourney, she could barely sit still. Do you have any hopes for who might win?" He asked idly. Sansa was glad Ser Brynden was her main escort and not some Septa or another. It was to her understanding that her father asked the knight to look after her.

"Absolutely no idea. Ser Loras was the victor of the Hand of the Tourney, perhaps him?" She answered back dully, shivering as she felt the chill and cold winds through her not Autum appropriate gown.

Herself and her grand-uncle watched as the final preparations on the field were being made. It was about to start.

"Not supporting your Uncle Edmure? That's not very Tully" He noted with a raised eyebrow.

Sansa turned so he would see her eye roll, "Yes, _Family, Duty, Honour_ and all that. You are more than welcome to support him and look the fool when he looses" She smiled cheekily.

Ser Brynden looked amused, "Who's been telling you tales Sansa? He is actually quite good" He said kindly, though it was obvious he didn't think too much on his skill level.

Ser Brynden then shook his head as the first round commenced.

It was a few hours later that the festivities stopped. Renly Baratheon was the victor and then Robar Royce won against a Riverlord. Jaime Lannister also won against a Frey – she was darkly pleased – not so when he flashed her a grin and Ser Brynden looked about to charge down to the field and challenge the knight. None victory was quite as fulfilling as when Brienne spectacularly beat Ser Boras Blout of the Kingsguard. He was thrown off his horse so violently he had to be carried off field. Sansa cheered very loudly and the crowd followed her lead. Loras Tyrell won which was no surprise and handed out roses to the adoring crowd. She was also given one, quite bravely she might add as Ser Brynden's scowl was fierce as was Lord Manderlys. Sansa was only amused.

There were other jousts but none that interested her much. This tourney was very large. Larger than the Hand of the King's tourney she attended in her last lifetime. The most of the knights and lords from the Crownlands, Riverlands and Vale were present as well as a few from the West, the Reach, Stormlands and various parts of Westeros. The tourney attracted most of the realm and it was then Sansa noted that quite a few tents had been set up for lesser lords and knights not high enough in station to be given a place in the castle as there was simply not enough room. She frowned as she just realised the _scale_ of the tourney she had arranged. It was most likely to be the last one before winter arrived.

The festivities would continue on for several days due to the high number of people competing. It was a great relief when the day finished and another feast was prepared. King Robert did love his feasts.

Sansa's presence at the feast that night was also mandatory and was much the same as the previous night. She was seated next to Joffery and nodded politely and answered his questions dutifully whilst imagining what it would be like to stab in the eye with her fork. The way his eyes gazed ludely and drank her in made Sansa very uncomfortable.

When Sansa retired for the night she made her way through the halls of Riverrun with a trickle of fear running down her spine as if she was being watched. Why did she have the foreboding feeling that things were starting to go wrong? For all her planning and knowledge of the future, she very much still felt a little girl lost in a difficult and confusing game.

Why did it feel like her hopes for the future were starting to unravel?


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait. I was really busy and then got some quite nasty messages about how awful my story is and it really demotivated me. I get that this story might not be your cup of tea but insulting me personally and calling me stupid is a bit too far. In general, I'm blown away by the support and how much you all enjoy this so I will try my best to make it as great as possible. I love that people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.**

 **All of you are wanting more Tyrion and I will get back to him soon. I promise. Right now I am just arranging everything else and focusing on the plot and other characters. If there are any other characters you want to see Sansa interact with let me know! As always I love to hear your thoughts. I like to know my weak points so I can improve. A few people have mentioned that I make Sansa too perfect. That really isn't my intention. The story is primarily from Sansa's point of view so it's hard to see her character flaws because she thinks she's so smart and shrewd. Truthfully, she's a little in over her head. Of course, she is smart but she does make mistakes and isn't nearly as politically savvy as she thinks she is. Her mistakes will come to light soon and old Ned already pointed out how inappropriate and detached she was acting in the face of serious situations.**

 **I hope you enjoy my new chapter :)**

* * *

Day two of the Tourney, Sansa was a little more excited than the first. Her beloved Direwolf was still not permitted to leave her chambers; in one part as she may spook the horses but another that men trembled and pissed themselves in her presence.

Her gown was a mixture of Tully colours and grey of Stark and pending mourning of her grandfather's ill health. News had spread about his ailment and people were stopping her to give their condolences as an excuse to speak with her. The Blackfish and Edmure were spending time with Hoster Tully before the tourney continued so Sansa was once again escorted around by Brienne. Sansa stood quietly in the shadows of the courtyard as her friend stood by her side and shifted restlessly.

"Come out with it Brienne. I understand I am your lady and charge but I would think you would be comfortable enough to tell me if something is bothering you" Sansa inquired casually but with a softness to her voice she hoped was welcoming. Brienne was fidgeting all morning and seemed a little uneasy.

"It is nothing of importance my lady" Brienne replied immediately. Sansa sighed, the woman was too dutiful for her own good even after these years.

"If it is bothering you it is of importance, Brienne" Sansa said gently with a smile to her friend. Brienne's eyes cut to hers and she looked away awkwardly.

"I had not known I would need to escort you this morning. I have not had time to feed and prepare my horse for this mornings joust" Brienne stated uncomfortably. Sansa frowned and turned to the woman, realisation dawning as Sansa realised the woman did not have a squire. She would need to do something about that immediately.

Sansa smiled and began walking to the stables, "Well let us go then" She nodded. Brienne looked uneasy but followed her dutifully,

"You needn't my lady. You are my first priority" Brienne was grateful and looked a little sheepish with her head down.

Sansa shook her head at the modesty of her sworn shield, "Yes and it is hardly a hardship for me to wait in the stables while you attend to your horse"

The pair dodged men attempting to converse with her. Sansa felt a headache forming as she realised she was really only the highborn and pretty maiden present. There were whores and wenches but very few actual ladies. Princess Myrcella was beautiful, why weren't these knights swarming around her?

As she approached the stables, it was to her great misfortune and dismay that she saw the last person she wanted to converse with standing outside the stables. _Prince Joffrey_. His long golden curled hair hung past his shoulders and blew in the breeze. The prince was stood with his back to her and the Hound facing her. His eyes flickered up and watched her closely as she approached with Brienne. Sansa felt a chill run down her spine at the intense grey stare of Sandor Clegane.

Brienne looked questioningly at her but she simply shook her head to indicate that it was fine. Sansa took a deep breath to steady herself as she called out, "Prince Joffrey" as pleasantly as she could make her voice. Immediately the boy swivelled round and a slow lecherous grin spread across his face as his eyes flickered down her gown. She wished had worn Septa's robes.

The Hound stood silently behind his charge but gaze did not waver from her. She ignored the weight of it. Sansa turned around to see Brienne looking worried and obviously debating whether or not to leave her unescorted when Sansa spoke,

"Go ahead Brienne, I shall be fine with Prince Joffrey. You will only be over there and I will still be within eyesight of you" Sansa stated to ease her internal conflict.

Brienne did not look convinced, "My lady, it is not proper to leave you alone with the Prince" She was frowning and eyes flickering back and forth between the current heir to the seven kingdoms and herself. Sansa shook her head,

"We are not unaccompanied, Sandor Clegane is present, you will be not two feet from me. It is fine, on you go Brienne" She smiled at her. The lady seemed reluctant but did leave but kept a close eye on her and did not stray too far. Oh Brienne. She cherished how protective the woman was of her.

"Rather protective, isn't she?" Prince Joffrey said in a snide voice with a cruel smirk as Sansa turned back to the Prince. Sansa smiled again, less genuinely and stated,

"Yes she is a wonderful sworn shield" The Stark girl said honestly. The Prince looked to be holding in a sneer but refrained from answering and instead changed the subject.

"You are looking wonderfully radiant today my lady, a great northern beauty" He proclaimed dramatically and stepped forward to kiss her hand. Shivers of repulsion shot up her hand as his plump lips touched her. She swallowed uncomfortably. Sansa fought back the desire to tell him that she did not hold the beauty of the north but rather the Riverlands but again held her tongue.

At her lack of response and simpering the Prince frowned and asked her, "Who you think will win the Tourney, my lady?" Joffrey asked pleasantly, the smile on his face was a little unsettling as it was so... honest. Did the fool truly believe this conversation was going well?

Sansa paused for a moment, "I am not certain, do you have an idea?" She asked out of politeness and not actual interest. Sansa's eyes were focusing on the horse shit smell of the stables and watching it longingly. She was remembering the time many years ago that she dumped shit of this little shit with her sister. A memory she will cherish forever.

When Sansa looked up again she met Sandor Clegane's eyes and he looked vastly amused and was smirking at her. ' _Dear Maiden he knew! what she was thinking!'_ Aside from her little sister the only living soul that knew it was her was the Hound after he had caught her. Sansa's face deepened red as she thought back to that night when she was confronted by him. In the end, he agreed it would be better for everyone if it was an accident. He knew she was thinking about doing it again. She avoided eye contact with him at all costs. How embarrassing.

Joffrey, in the meantime, was clueless and puffed up proudly, "Oh since I am not competing, any of my uncles I suppose. Possibly Jaime. Mother does not let me compete in these competitions, she is much too protective" The prince rolled his eyes in annoyance.

To her great relief, Brienne returned at that moment and returned to her side, "Come my lady, I must bring you to your uncle before the tourney begins" She said firmly. Sansa nodded and looked back to the Prince.

"Forgive me Prince Joffrey I must be going" She spoke with mock sympathy in her voice. The Prince looked displeased but his glare towards Brienne melted when Sansa looked properly at him.

He nodded and bowed before her, "Good day my lady. I am sure we will see each other soon" The smirk on his face was unsettling and set alarm bells off in her head. Although they were the ones leaving the Prince stormed off quickly and Sansa watched him go with relief.

"Good day Sandor Clegane" She nodded politely at the man that lingered behind, eyes now lazily watching her a ghost of a smirk still present on her face.

"Aye, same to you little wolf" His voice rasped deeply and softly. Sansa bit her lip as she watched him sulk off behind his charge. He was so very tall the hound with strong shoulders and a perfect lean frame. Not an ounce of fat and he walked as though he were stalking something in the forest. Powerful legs and tall frame. Sansa thought one could mistake him from a knight from behind, if it weren't for his face, he would be quite attractive.

"My lady, are you coming?" Brienne said and Sansa immediately looked at her sworn shield that was watching her curiously. Sansa coloured again as she realised she had been watching the Hound walk away in admiration. How crass of her.

She nodded curtly and followed her friend away.

This day she was seated beside Lord Piper and the Blackfish. Marq Piper was a good friend of her Uncle Edmure and a very chatty man. It was irritating listening to him prattle on. Although his gaze flicked and he watched her, he was not crude about it but rather curious and admiring. It was the most she could hope for.

Brienne was smashing through the competition to her pleasure and admiration. Men grumbled and glared all they liked though she was the sworn shield of the Hand of the Kings eldest daughter and was entitled to respect. Lord Stark would also not hear anything bad said about the woman. She had been told of the whisperings about Brienne, that Lord Stark was so protective of her virtue that he had to have a woman for her guard. Her beauty was so great that no man could resist her charms. The singers that had clustered to the Tourney like scavengers had found that idea quite popular.

Edmure had done reasonably well to her surprise but went against Ser Andar Royce - Yohn Royce's eldest son - and was thrown off his horse. Loras Tyrell had similarly lost to Jaime Lannister. That defeat was hard to watch. The kingsgaurd member was forceful and unyielding. Although Loras Tyrell was not seriously injured he had to hobble off the field to be attended to maesters. Jaime Lannister smirked and green eyes glittered with satisfaction. She had not desire to know Jaime's quarrel with the Knight of flowers.

Sansa did not attend formal meals or gatherings the second day and helped her mother with Robert and his tantrums. Sweetrobins health was deteriorating at an alarming rate but Sansa had the magic touch. Lysa had been visited only by the Blackfish at this point as her behaviour towards her mother was too aggressive and Lady Stark was somewhat heartbroken by her sisters behaviour.

The only saving grace was that herself, her father, Uncle Brynden and Edmure were all permitted absence from the evening's feast to spend some time with her Grandfather Tully. They had arranged a small supper to be set up in his chambers for the family to spend some time together.

Sansa was escorted easily by her father with Joffrey frowning and glaring petulantly at Lord Stark as she left. Brynden Tully rose immediately to follow them from the hall though Edmure lingered, seemingly a little disappointed to leave his friends behind.

Entering Lord Tully's chambers, Sansa smiled sadly as she saw her mother reading to Lord Hoster quietly. Lady Catelyn was always beautiful but she looked weary and stricken with grief. It was not as terrible as it was years ago with Bran but the old echo's of pain were clear.

"Mother" Sansa called and immediately Lady Catelyn looked up.

There had been a makeshift table arranged in the centre of the large room as Lady Stark did not wish to leave her fathers side. Meats, vegetables, potatoes, bread, wine, cheeses and deserts littered the table. The meal was rather humble and more a means to force her mother to eat and to spend some time together as a family.

Sansa took her place in between her Uncle Edmure and Ser Bryden with her father and Lady Stark seated across from her. The room was silent and people picked at their food until Sansa spoke up.

"How has Grandfather been?" She asked and nibbled on a lemon cake. Her mother ripped apart some bread with a frown,

"His health is only getting worse. The wound was not deep but is only draining his energy. He does not have long left. The maesters say it will be a miracle if he survives the Kings visit" She replied stonily. Guilt shot through her at lightning and she avoided her fathers gaze in shame because of her behaviour the previous night.

The room was sad and atmosphere rather awkward. Sansa cleared her throat, "Has there been any development with Aunt Lysa?" She asked quietly, knowing that it was a sore subject for all in the room.

It was her Uncle Brynden that answered her, "No she is still spouting her mad ramblings. I'm afraid there is nothing much more we can do. I would recommend to strike her but you would only break your hand" He frowned and took a sip from his goblet.

Sansa nodded seriously, "Do we know what will become of young Robert after the tourney? Will he remain or return to the Vale without his mother?"

Lady Stark exchanged looked with her husband before answering, "We believe it might be best for Robert to return with us to Winterfell. He can be fostered in the North and learn from Robb. Rickon is only three years younger and only a little larger than Robert. Being around boys his own age will be good for him"

Sansa nodded and tried not to seem displeased by this.

"This bothers you Sansa?" The Blackfish asked astutely. Sansa let out a little smile at his keen observation of her and shook her head,

"A little. To tell it true, the boy will be hard work. He weeps for his toys and when I visited him he thought I was going to breast feed him. It will be great effort in helping him become a strong leader..." Sansa said with a shake to the head then smiled at her mother. Part of her was warmed and felt the need to protect her cousin but another was wary for if he passed again it would only be more pain and loss for herself.

Her mother frowned at her, "I had hoped you would be eager to help your cousin Sansa. I have duties to attend to and this would be excellent practice for your own children. He is a very sickly child and needs all the help he can get" She noted.

Sansa nodded seriously, "I will pray to the old gods and new for his good health" She continued with a sigh, "Of course I shall do what I can to help but I truly do not believe it is in his best interests to come to Winterfell. Rickon will not be a good playmate for Robert, he is much too wild. Robert will also be too scared to leave his chambers because of our wolves. I had thought it best to perhaps foster him to someone willing to teach him. I think he needs a strong hand more than ever rather than more coddling"

Her father watched her considered her words. The Blackfish spoke up, "I agree. I don't think there is much you can do for him Cat. He needs to learn how to become a man"

Lady Stark nodded but thinned her lips, "But who would be willing to take him in? The Lords of the Vale would only use the boy for their own ambitions" She said wisely with a worried frown.

Edmure Tully piped up, "I don't think he should be left here. Lysa would only poison him more and there isn't anything I can do"

Sansa looked at her uncle and immediately quipped, "Are you certain? It would be excellent practice for your own children" She stated dryly with a smile. Ned Stark and Brynden Tully let out a quick laugh. Her mother stared at her with exasperation but fondness.

Edmure merely gave her an alarmed look.

Sansa decided to speak up again, "Perhaps a betrothal is in order then?" She asked everyone in the room. It seemed everyone agreed with her statement and began bouncing idea's back and forth.

It seemed best to keep it within the East, lest they anger the Vale Lords but then there was the issue of her cousin being used for political means. Sansa was against this and did not want her cousin used as a mere pawn. Robert's frailty was well known so finding a good match, despite his high standing was still quite difficult. There were many children in the Riverlands and Meera Reed was even brought up until Sansa finally spoke again,

"Why not Shireen Baratheon? Daughter of Stannis Baratheon?" The whole table turned to look at Sansa. She explained patiently, "Shireen is only a few years older than Robert, she is the only child of Lord Stannis and Selyse Baratheon and her sons will be due to inherent Dragonstone if he does not have another child, which due to Selyse's ill health and difficulty conceiving seems very likely. I have heard Shireen to be a kind, patient and intelligent young girl but Lord Stannis is having difficulties finding her a match as she has facial scarring from a bout of greyscale when she was a child" Shireen was a wonderful lady. Kind, compassionate and wise. Everything she fantasised a true lady being as a young girl in her previous life. Sansa ignored the well of panic and alarm she felt when she recalled the sweet and strong young girl's fate in her previous life. That would not happen this time. A betrothal to the heir of the East would giver her a measure of protection though it was a little unorthodox.

The whole table was silent and looked at her curiously, Ned Stark replied, "Yes this does seem like the best option. I shall bring it up with Robert on the morrow and personally write Lord Stannis with the proposal"

Sansa smiled at another problem finding a solution and hoped the two children would find love in one another.

Her mother then decided to ask, "Speaking of betrothals, I think it is time that we found one for you Sansa. You are only a year away from marrying age" Lady Stark brought up the one topic she had been actively avoiding and dreading.

Sansa stopped chewing her cake for a moment before swallowing it thickly. They could not make her a betrothal, not yet. Tyrion was not present and the climate too unstable. They could not. They had only delayed her marriage prospects as her father was not present but now... Dear gods, they _couldn't_.

Edmure nodded his head and said, "Yes, it has been the talk of the knights and lords of the Riverlands since her arrival. I've been pestered about it non-stop" He frowned and shook his head.

Sansa was frozen and continued to stare impassively at the table her family was seated at. This could become a serious problem. How would she work around this? This could not happen.

"Whom?" Her father demanded with a frown and deep displeased voice. Sansa did not pay attention to the voices around her as Edmure Tully began listing off names of the knights and lords that had inquired into her. It made her feel ill and uneasy and she tried to think of ways to postpone making a betrothal. She knew now that she had to _immediately_ start preparations for her eventual marriage to Tyrion.

"Sansa, dear, I have heard from some of the maids that you seem to be quite close to the Prince. Is this true?" Her mother asked her directly, drawing her back to the conversation. Sansa looked up with a frown and watched the intrigue on her mothers face. Dread coiled in her stomach in response.

"Not particularly mother, I have been seated beside him at meals and seen him on occasion, that is all" Sansa spoke with a serious voice that had a dangerous edge to it. Her mother must not be implying what Sansa thinks she is.

Lady Catelyn nodded and spoke again, "I saw the pair of you from the windows as he escorted you to the feast. He seemed quite taken with you" Her mother hinted and Sansa simply watched her mother blankly.

"He was merely being polite" Sansa answered back to her mother, an air of warning definitely ringing in her tone now. She tried very hard not to clench her teeth. Sansa would die before she was betrothed to that little monster again.

Lady Stark looked at her curiously with furrowed brows then turned to her husband, "You have been present during the feasts, has Prince Joffrey seemed as besotted as I have heard him to be?"

Sansa's eyes drifted towards her father and almost smiled. Lord Stark looked uncomfortable. He was frowning, ripping apart a piece of bread and staring intensely at a table. Displeasure practically radiated off of him. His eyes flickered up to the people at the table and he sighed very deeply before sitting back. Ah yes, she had told him the true nature of the bastard years ago at Winterfell. No doubt he has had more time in the Red Keep and seen his behaviour first hand.

"He did seem... eager to converse with Sansa" He muttered reluctantly and with great difficulty. Edmure Tully laughed and said eagerly,

"More than eager, he was like a lost puppy begging for scraps. It was obvious, even from where I was seated" He sniggered, perhaps a little tipsy from the copious amount of wine he was drinking.

Sansa turned to stare blankly at her uncle. Her facial expression read, 'why'. Edmure's smile faltered as he looked at her then he cleared his throat.

"You look very much like old Ned when you look at me like that" She thought she heard him mutter under his breath before her mother spoke up again.

"This is good. Perhaps you can speak with Robert about a betrothal again? Explain to him that Sansa was too young when you turned down his initial proposition-" Her mother began speaking to her father eagerly and the Blackfish cut in with a frown,

"-Initial proposition? King Robert proposed a betrothal between Sansa and Prince Joffrey, when was this?" He frowned and watched the Stark's interact curiously.

Sansa wanted the table to swallow her up and travel back in time again to _beg_ for Tyrion's hand in marriage years ago when she had the chance. He would have pitied her and may have accepted. But no, she was foolish and prideful and wanted him to love her first. He could have grown to love her as happened the first time. If she missed the opportunity and this was it, she would have to start working in her own interests against her family or give up on Tyrion. Either thought was unimaginable.

Lady Stark nodded, "Yes but we believed the political climate in the south was too volatile and refused. King Robert will not be offended if you declare your intentions now" Her mother was determined and for some reason actually _wanting_ Sansa to marry that little shit. She would rather take the black and fight the Others.

Her father finally found his voice, "Cat, I don't think this is the best of ideas. You don't know the boy. He is young, selfish and arrogant. Sansa deserves better" He spoke strongly but honestly and Sansa felt touched and love for her father well up inside her.

"Ned, he is still young. Barely a man. He still has much growing to do. It is not wise to squander this opportunity by being overprotective" Her mother waved off her father's concerns and seemed determined to follow this through.

Sansa could not allow this.

"Do I get a say?" She questioned dryly with a pointed look towards her parents. They both looked at her in surprise. Traditionally, she indeed did not get a say as her parents - her father in particular - would be the one to arrange her marriage. However, Sansa has been an integral part and influential member of her family these past few years. She scarcely counted as a child, if at all, and was consulted on every major issue in her House. It would be traditionally unusual but due to the power dynamic in her family, it would be very rude to not at least include her in the speculations.

Ned Stark looked a little guilty but her mother answered immediately, "Of course Sansa" She said kindly with a smile and looked at her daughter lovingly. Sansa felt almost guilty at refusing her mother but her survival outweighed her need for approval, "Would you like to marry Joffrey?" Lady Stark asked calmly.

Sansa stared at her mother for a few long moments before answering in a confident tone that rang with finality,

"No"

The atmosphere in the room became a little tense. Sansa could hear her grandfather feverish mutterings from the corner. The wind blew against the windows, creating a small breeze in the curtains. The sun was falling, the room growing steadily darker and the glow from the candelabras became necessary. Sansa could not bear to see the face of her father or the other men in the room. Her gaze was focused on her mother.

Lady Catelyn frowned, "Sansa, why not? If you marry Joffrey, one day you will be Queen" She explained as if this made a huge amount of difference to her.

Sansa sat back, "I have no desire to be Queen" She replied simply.

No, Daenerys would be Queen one day and Sansa would be faithfully by her side. Her friend was currently in Meeren learning to rule and gaining control over her dragons. Correspondence had been very infrequent but as Dany's ally's grew so did the ease of which they could speak. Letters written in Dothraki, delivered by trusted men loyal to the Queen delivered to Old Town then sent by Raven to the wall and redirected to her and not addressed under her name either. She had set up this system as Dany wanted a way to contact Maester Aemon, though from her understanding their letters were not very frequent either due to the difficulties. It was all very long and tedious but necessary. Sansa did not want to cause tension in her friendship with Dany by becoming a contender to the throne herself.

Her mother looked quite uncertain by her response and Sansa sighed and looked to her father. He was her only hope,

"Father I do not wish to marry Joffrey. He is a rude, arrogant and spoiled _boy._ Not to mention cruel, unkind, dangerously stupid and very much like his mother. He is truly the last man I would ever consider marrying, if you perhaps recall my opinion of him years ago at Winterfell?" Sansa hinted and gave her father a significant look. She was referring to the conversation that Sansa had with her father just before the King's arrival and revealing to him that Joffrey was a monster.

Her father frowned with sad eyes and nodded slowly to show that he did indeed remember. Her mother looked unhappy but also concerned,

"You feel so strongly about this?" She asked with worry lining her tone and face.

Sansa nodded seriously, "Frankly, I would rather take the black with Jon"

Her comment lessened the tension in the room significantly as her grand-uncle snorted and father looked amused. Her mother was a little scandalised.

Sansa shook her head with a smile, knowing she had won, "Honestly mother, Joffrey Baratheon is a weak craven. I could beat him in a spar I bet" She felt a little guilty for her cruel words but his cruelty towards her years ago would be dangerous to forget.

Her Uncle Edmure choked on wine and looked at her incredulously, "You wield a sword?" He gasped and looked her up in down, more scandalised than her mother.

Sansa shook her head and took a sip of wine, "Not well, that's the point" She smiled.

The Blackfish chuckled and her mother looked amused though trying to hide it, "Do you have anyone in mind for marriage Sansa, is this why you are so against our suggestions?" Her mother asked with a pointed look. Sansa felt her face colour and feel a little uneasy. It felt like Lady Catelyn was looking right through her and into her mind like only a mother could do. Brief mortification and embarrassment swept through her and her heart started to accelerate in her chest. What would they think if they knew she wanted to marry Tyrion Lannister? The imp. The whoring imp. The whoring _Lannister_ imp.

She tried to hide her reaction but clearly failed as her horror must have shown on her face. Ned Stark was back at looking seriously displeased,

"Whom?" He demanded again and eyed her carefully. Sansa shook her head a little frantically,

"No one, I swear it!" She breathed and looked imploringly to her mother. She was no help and her mother looked pleased and kind with an amused smile and indulgent look on her face. _'Dear gods no, do not do this to me'._

"Sansa dear, it is perfectly normal to become infatuated with someone. There are a lot of handsome young knights here at the tourney, am I correct?" Her mother smiled and levelled her with another knowing look. Sansa's eyes widened in mortification and her face _burned_ in humiliation.

She was a woman thrice wed! She could not be embarrassed about such things. Dany used to tell her explicit details about her many lovers in the Red Keep and she did not bat an eye. In fact, Tyrion was nothing but grateful for Dany's insight that emboldened and struck Sansa's own imagination. She was _no_ blushing maiden.

Except when seated at the table with her family, each watching her with varying expressions, she felt exactly like a child.

"Handsome knights?" Ned Stark repeated, voice empty and looked at his wife, even more displeased and stone faced. Sansa sucked in a breath and considered fleeing the room.

Edmure Tully snickered.

"Mother, father I swear there is no one. Who would I have spoken with? Please drop this" She begged with wide eyes and a pounding heart.

Her father eyed her suspiciously and her mother skeptically as if she did not believe a word she said. It was a look that clearly said that they would be talking of this at a later date in private. The Others take her now.

"Indeed. Aside from Prince Joffrey you have not spoken to anyone else have you?" Her father spoke quietly but with a very distinct relief in his voice that made Sansa relax.

Thank the gods it was over.

"Actually..." Ser Bryden spoke up. Sansa's head shot up and she stared at her grand-uncle with wild bright eyes.

"I actually saw you conversing with someone, didn't I Sansa?" He looked at her expectantly as if she would confess to a terrible crime.

Sansa tried one last time, "I don't really recall..." She said quietly with eyes begging but trying to appear nonchalant to the rest of the table.

"What is this?" Her father asked flatly, eyes looking back and forth between the pair. Sansa was frozen, heart beating rapidly. Why did this have to happen?

The Blackfish watched her and after realising she would not be revealing anything, turned to her father, "I saw Sansa speaking with the Kingslayer. Alone" His voice was low and dangerous.

Sansa tried not to hide her face away in dread. Could this get any worse?

" _Jaime Lannister_?" Her mother gasped, looking scandalised and blinked at her daughter in horror. Sansa was very uncomfortable and no doubt her facial expression said as much.

"What were you doing speaking with the Kingslayer Sansa?" Ned Stark, loving father and dutiful man was all gone, it was the Lord of Winterfell speaking now. She gulped but was too nervous to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

Edmure Tully hummed angrily and looked sideways at her for a long time before saying almost suspiciously, "Marq said that the Kingslayer was watching Sansa since the moment she arrived but I thought he was just jesting to rile me up before the Tourney"

The indignation in the room only rose. Dear gods, they thought there was some secret romance going on with her and _Jaime Lannister?_

"I am waiting Sansa" Her father's voice was harsh and unyielding, pure Stark Steel. She tried not to feel nervous but failed.

"I ran into him father, did you expect me to simply ignore him? He is a member of the Kingsguard" She said back quietly.

"Why were you unescorted in the first place?" He asked, eyes dark and something close to anger shimmering in them. Sansa tried not to sweat. She did not answer his question, knowing she was in the wrong but addressed the main issue here.

"Please, everyone calm down. I spoke with Ser Jaime, that is all. I was being polite and I am _not_ besotted with him in any way and neither do I have any foolish notions of marriage. He is in the _Kingsguard._ I understand your displeasure but I did nothing but politely converse with him" She spoke strongly now, knowing her nervous behaviour was helping her none. She looked directly in the eye of everyone present at the table.

Her grand-uncle was looking at her in disappointment, "Is that so Sansa? He called you 'little pup' that is a very familiar name to address someone you have just met" He pointed out.

Why was he doing this to her! Sansa paused and looked nervously at her father. Lord Stark rose from the table swiftly in a rage.

Sansa was about to throw herself in his way to stop him from storming from the room, which is what it seemed like he was about to do. Fortunately, her mother was a blessing as she stood just as fast and put her hand on her husbands arm,

"Ned, calm down. Let Sansa explain herself first. We do not want to alert the castle to this, now do we?" Her mothers voice was tight and held a warning. The implications was not lost on her. Did they... did they think her and Jaime were having some sort of.. _secret romance?_ The war with the Others was less traumatising than this. Tyrion would be laughing his arse off... No. He would _never_ hear of this horrific incident.

Her father was close to glaring at her but sat back down at the table, slowly. His eyes were hard and sharp, his face grim and cold and he had never looked as disappointed in her before. It made her heart twinge painfully.

Sansa cleared her throat, "Yes, I swear this is the first time I have spoken to him at Riverrun. I swear it" She finished strongly and then looked down awkwardly, "That... name is something that he had called me before and I believe it is more in mocking than affection..." She trailed off awkwardly.

Ser Brynden was regarding her quietly with a frown. Edmure Tully looked startled and angry. Her mother was horrified and her father... Well, she had never seen her calm father look so filled with rage before.

" _Before"_ He repeated quietly, dangerously.

Sansa gulped and nodded.

"You have been conversing with him... _before"_ His voice rose a little in the end but his tone was Arctic and empty. The tone had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She had never thought she would fear her father. She thanked the gods he was not a harsh punisher and his anger was not directed at her but merely by association.

She hastened to explain, "At Winterfell father when he visited if you recall? Please calm down, you have been south with Ser Jaime all these years, please think rationally father and do not let your temper control you" She begged.

Lady Stark seemed to have more sense than her husband and nodded, "She is right Ned, calm down" She said and her fathers shoulders dropped a little,

"You did not inform me that the Kingslayer approached you in Winterfell Sansa" His voice was only mildly reprimanding but he was still very displeased.

The eldest Stark daughter sighed wearily, "Perhaps if either of you had been about I might have" She said honestly to her parents. They both looked a little guilty,

"Besides there were more important matters to attend to then, please do not make this into something it is not. I was ten and _one_ then and still a child. No doubt Ser Jaime was trying to rile me up and is now doing the same. Please mother, father, do not blow this out of proportion. He is a member of the Kingsguard and much too old for me" Sansa shook her head and felt a little disguised.

How could they think she liked Jaime Lannister? Sansa did hold a certain sort of affection for the dishonoured knight. He was Tyrions _brother_ after all and her future brother-in-law. He was so very annoying and times and funny other times. He infuriated her but made her smile on occasion. The idea of marrying the man was completely and utterly ridiculous.

It seemed like her parents were not much appeased by her words though no longer unhappy with her. They were exchanging long looks and the Blackfish spoke up again,

"I know he is a member of the Kingsguard Sansa but do not be so lenient of the man. I know you wish to see the best in him but they do not call him the Kingslayer for no reason. I would be more wary of his attentions if I were you" He warned her seriously.

Sansa tried not to roll her eyes. So now he was the awful disgraced knight out to steal her maidenhood? Was this better than them believing her to have a secret affection for him? She did not know. Sansa wished she could drink herself into a stupor to forever forget this dreadful night.

The Stark girl looked to her parents that both looked very solemn, "He is right Sansa" He father said, "Swear to me you will not spend any time alone with him again" He was completely serious.

Sansa sighed in exasperation.

" _Sansa, swear to me"_ Her father repeated and Sansa looked up in shock at the harshness of his tone. She took a steadying breath and looked Ned Stark deep in the eyes.

"I swear father" she replied steadily, sadness creeping at her as she was quite looking forward to spending time with the man she had befriended.

Ned Stark's shoulders dropped in relief again and she tried not to bang her head against the table. Sansa hastily scrambled for another topic to steer the conversation to,

"Will there be any action against Petyr Baelish?" Sansa asked boldly, tactfully ignoring the sensitive subject in her haste to forget the last hour.

People around the table exchanged looks again and her father looked sullen, "At the moment, I am afraid not. His involvement cannot be either confirmed nor denied without Lysa's testimony and it will most likely not stick due to the state of her mind. The maesters deemed it a natural death and there is no indication of murder aside from the ramblings of an unstable woman. The best that can be done now is telling the King of his involvement with the dishounering of Lysa and hope he will see reason and give some sort of punishment though I must say the likelihood of this is very small" He sighed. What he didn't say was that the King would likely seek vengeance on Lysa Tully also. His wrath was inescapable any anyone who knew him would know that he would probably execute the woman. Although unstable and guilty of crimes the woman was still family and should be protected. Sansa understood though found it hard to be merciful when the women tried to kill her in a previous lifetime and she did her consider the woman to be kin.

Sansa considered her options for a moment or two, "Perhaps then you should also bring up... the rumours and tales he is spreading across Kings Landing about... about mother and claim that you cannot work with a man who spreads such dishonour about your wife" She said quietly, praying that no one would ask her to expand on her meaning.

Her hopes were dashed, "What rumours has Petry been spreading of me throughout the Red Keep?" Her mother's voice did not quite yell but was high and indignant and left no room for refusal.

Sansa refused to make eye contact with anyone at the table and fiddled with her cup with wine, she most definitely needed it, "I have heard that... he um-claims to have... dishonoured both Tully sisters" Her face was again burning in humiliation. Speaking of her mother with Littlefinger. By the gods, it was too traumatic. Mayhaps they should get back to her relationship with Jaime Lannister.

"And who told you of this" Her grand-uncle questioned strongly but peeking up at him, he appears thunderous and it was not directed at her thank the gods.

"...Jaime Lannister" She muttered awkwardly as no one else came to mind. Her parents were accustomed to her unusual knowledge of things but not the Blackfish and she could not lie about speaking with members of the court. Who else would agree to play along? Only Jaime would.

The table all stared at her blankly. She looked down with cheeks as red as her hair. Lord Stark broke the silence, "I shall relay this information to Robert and demand his immediate dismissal from the Small Council or I shall resign from my position" He said strongly.

Sansa was uneasy and unhappy with the compromise. Keeping Littlefinger alive and plotting was very dangerous but little could be done. She would see what alternative options they had.

Her father then cleared his throat, "I have been speaking with your mother Sansa and I was hoping that you both might be willing to return to Kings Landing with me when I travel south again. She is right that you are old enough to be made a betrothal and I think I better start making preparations for your future" He explained.

Sansa was both elated and dismayed. Did she truly wish to go down south? Was she ready? It felt like the last few years were a dream. A wonderful repetition of childhood that was a healing palm of her soul and mind. She had never felt so at peace. At the same time, it was also dull and lacked the excitement and fascination of her previous life. There was no urgent work or problems to solve. No passion between herself or her husband and no court politics to keep her entertained.

So in many ways, she wished to return to the quiet and peaceful life at Winterfell but her second childhood was now over. She had to start setting things in motion. A betrothal was imminent and she had to start laying the foundations of her future marriage or all could be lost.

Sansa looked up at her father, bringing up a topic that was been dancing between her father for the last few years. Now that Littlefinger was to be dispatched from the small council now was the time, "I see. Do you... have anyone in mind for the new Master of Coin position father?" She asked with hope in her voice. Sansa should have waited later but could not wait to ask, excited as she was.

Ned Stark looked up with raised eyebrows and a small smile dancing on his lips, "I believe I do" He replied with a knowing quality in his voice.

Sansa smiled. Yes, she would most _definitely_ be travelling to Kings Landing.

* * *

When everyone was still occupied by the feast later that night Sansa decided to take Lady out for some fresh air and to do her business. Sansa had donned her large cloak and had not stepped out of her room an inch when the room beside hers opened and Brienne came out.

"Lady Sansa, your lord father informed me you should not be walking out without an escort" Brienne reminded her with a disappointed voice as she stepped forward out of her room to move dutifully at her side.

Sansa saw the woman was not dressed in full armour but wore more comfortable clothing and was most likely relaxing for the night. Her sword was faithfully at her side however. Sansa felt a twinge of guilt.

"You should be relaxing Brienne. You must be exhausted from the jousting and deserve a rest" Sansa tried to scold but could see on the stubborn set to her friends shoulders that she would not be moving. She placed a hand on her sworn shields shoulder and frowned a little, looking her up and down in worry.

Brienne smiled and shook her head a little, "I thank you for your concern, Sansa but I am quite well. There will be a break from the Tourney on the morrow, so that people may rest up. I can handle escorting you outside with Lady, I am made of sterner stuff" Brienne smiled.

Sansa smiled back. Brienne was no beauty, this was true. At least conventional beauty she supposed. Her lips were too large for her face, her nose too broad and hair too short. She was freckled and did not possess any grace aside from when she wielded her sword. But her blue eyes sparkled and were as deep as the ocean. They were much more remarkable than Sansa's own blues. When staring into them it was easy to remember that despite appearances she was very much a woman.

"Very well Brienne" She replied and began walking through the castle. Brienne walked on her right and Lady on her left. No one was about as most were probably at the celebrations.

"Congratulations on your victories Brienne. You have been doing an excellent job, just as I knew you would have" Sansa beamed to her friend in pride. Brienne's smile was a little bashful when she replied, "Thank you my lady, I am glad to do you proud" Her tone was a tad shy but laced with satisfaction and happiness. She could understand. The walked down a large flight of stairs.

"Do you think you could win? you would be the first women to ever do so" Sansa asked, her excitement building as she thought about it. The two ladies finally reached the outside and Sansa took in the night sky, the quiet and chilled night air. Autumn had arrived and winter would be here shortly.

"I am not so sure my lad-" Brienne was cut off by a sarcastic and mocking laughter. They both turned to see Ser Jaime Lannister leaning casually against the castle wall, adorned in his full golden armour making him shine like a beacon in the darker night.

"Well, if it isn't the lovely Lady Sansa and her knightly companion that's been pissing off every man participating in the tourney" Jaime's smirk was bright and excited as he sauntered over to the pair. Uneasiness spread up Sansa and a little fascination. Jaime and Brienne's friendship was rather legendary in her previous lifetime. Opposites that managed to find commonality and learn from the other. It was the stuff songs were made of.

Brienne raised herself up and took one step forward so that she was in front of her lady charge. Sansa watched this movement with a frown and lay her hand gently on her direwolf's head that seemed to be watching the ongoing confrontation just as avidly as her mistress.

"Are you afraid to take on a woman in battle, _Kingslayer?"_ Brienne's voice was haughty and superior. It made Sansa's eyes widen at the disrespect she'd shown. Brienne was the most respectful person she'd ever met.

Indeed Ser Jaime's eyebrows rose and he looked nothing but amused and every inch the predator about to strike his prey, his muscles were relaxed by looked ready to strike and his green eyes taking her in, "Of course not, seeing as no women _could_ beat me in battle. Though I must congratulate you on your impressive skill my lady. Should I call you my lady or would _Ser_ be more appropriate?" He asked with a pleasant voice but filled with barely disguised malice.

Sansa swallowed and saw the small blush form on her sworn shields freckled cheeks, "My lady is fine, _Kingslayer"_

Jaime Lannister looked nothing but indulgent and bemused with the women through his eyes were hard and sharp. They reminded her much of his twin's eyes at that moment. It made Sansa uncomfortable, weren't these two destined to be great friends?

"Will you not address me as my proper title, my _lady"_ he spoke the word 'lady' full of sarcasm and disbelief. His head tilted to the side in a challenging manner.

Brienne stood taller as if this gave his words less impact, "No. You have no honour and do not deserve such a title, _kingslayer"_

Sansa watched the interaction with morbid fascination and lots of worry. These were two people she truly cared for and did not know how to defuse the situation. Mutual and irrational antagonism she could not negotiate. If Tyrion were here, he would know what to say. Sansa bit her lip in worry.

The Kingsguard member let out a chuckle and continued watching Brienne with sharp eyes, "Indeed, perhaps not. Though the same could be said for you, my _lady"_ Ser Jaime's eyes roamed obviously over her form that was tall and muscular. Brienne's shoulders stiffened and face coloured again, "Perhaps the most appropriate term for you would be wench" He mused thoughtfully.

Sansa gasped, "Do not be so cruel Ser Jaime" She scolded and stepped forward a little though Brienne was unyielding and did not allow her to move an inch closer to the disgraced knight.

"Ah, I am simply being honest my lady, your companion addresses me as Kingslayer so why should I not address her as wench?" Ser Jaime's eyes were now looking directly into hers. His face was pleasant and tone conversational but his eyes were sharp and challenging her. He was daring her to take her sworn shields side. He was telling her to mind her own business and do not get involved. If she objected to Brienne being called wench and not him being called kingslayer, it would make her a hypocrite and he would most likely never forgive her.

Sansa's lack of response was telling and she swallowed as words would not come out. She could not pick a side, could she? Was she duty bound to take Brienne's side even though she was being the cruel one in this instance? Jaime was being provocative but should he be polite when Brienne wasn't?

Sansa kept eye contact with the Knight the whole time and watched as his face softened considerably. He looked more wistfully sad and self-deprecating at the moment. Ser Jaime looked so much like his younger brother then. Sansa took an automatic step forward – pressing against Brienne - as if to try and comfort the man as he also nudged forward.

"Sansa" A strong northern voice called. Sansa closed her eyes in defeat and dread as she heard her father's voice call. This situation could not get worse now, could it?

Sansa only allowed herself a moment of dread and composed herself immediately as steeled herself like only a Stark could do. She met Ser Jaime's eyes again for a second and he looked both thoughtful and assessing as he watched her. She did not have time or patience to interpret what he saw from her face.

"Father" Sansa greeted kindly and watched her father approach from somewhere in the darkness. Sansa's worry only increased as she saw the darkly displeased look that bordered on anger as he approached and his eyes kept staring intensely at the bright Kingsguard member standing in his almost glowing golden armour. Absurdly, she wanted to step in front of the man and shield him from the judgement and accusations of her father. Ned Stark was a wonderful man, an honourable man that wholly believed in justice. Someone with a character as grey as Ser Jaime Lannister was too much for him to comprehend. Jaime needed acceptance and someone to give him a chance. If everyone believed him to be disgraced and dishonourable then, of course, that is what he would become. He could be a good man.

"What are you doing outside the castle at this hour?" Her father asked with a frown as he stood in the space between the Lannister and herself and Brienne.

Sansa swallowed before she answered, "I was taking Lady out to do her business and for some fresh air before I retired for the night. I did not want her wandering the halls alone if she needed to relieve herself" Sansa said quietly, praying she wouldn't receive a scolding.

Ned Stark watched her for a moment or two and then nodded, "Very well, take Lady down to the river, I will wait to escort you back to your chambers. My lady, please accompany my daughter" He directed the last statement at her sworn shield. Brienne nodded seriously and replied,

"Of course Lord Stark" Brienne immediately motioned for her to leave.

Sansa looked back to her father worriedly, knowing that he would be having words with Jaime and deeply concerned about what he would be saying. Sansa saw her fathers full attention was on the knight and he was frowning so deep it looked etched into his face. Meanwhile, Jaime Lannister was still watching her thoughtfully. Sansa thought it was in part of out curiosity and the other to ignore her father out of disrespect. Either way, it made nerves bounce to the surface of her skin.

The opposite could be said about the knights facial expression from before. His face was hard and amused. It was shielded perfectly and showed to the world that he did not care about anything but himself. His eyes however... they were watching and curious. A hint of worry perhaps? She frowned as she turned away. Why would the knight be worried? Why were his eyes watching her so attentively? Her friendship with the man was simply and honestly nothing complicated. She should have anticipated the reaction of the court and her family. A friendship was not appropriate.

She knew that it was now time for damage control. She could be friendly with Jaime _after_ she wed his brother. Sansa needed to focus. She needed to be smart. These next few days would determine so much and she needed to keep focused. She would find her way to Tyrion one way or another.

As Sansa walked down to the river she prayed to the old gods that the next day would be better than this one.


	18. Chapter 18

On the third day, there was a break to attend to the field and for the men to have a rest. It was then that Sansa decided it was time she spent some proper time with her father.

Sansa had broken fast with her mother and grandfather before walking regally through the castle with Lady at her side, haven given Brienne the day off to rest. The direwolf had become restless being mostly cooped up these last few days so she intended on letting her out.

Sansa had been told her father was entertaining the King and working but she paid this information no mind as she walked up to the chambers he was in.

Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Preston Greenfield were outside to her dismay and did not bother to thank them for admitting her entrance. The great doors opened and Sansa swept in the room adorned in her riding leathers and long hair braided down her back.

The King was slouched in his chair with a goblet of wine in his hand and scowling. Ned Stark had papers strewn across the table and was frowning as he read them. King Robert looked up as she entered and straightened with a smile whilst her father did not seem to notice. Ser Jaime Lannister stood behind them with a bored look that turned somewhat into intrigue as she entered.

"Your Grace" She bowed her head respectfully. Her father's looked up but she ignored him and approached the Usurper King, "Is my father honestly still working?" She asked him and Robert Baratheon smiled genuinely, his wide grin stretching across his face. It was hard for her to be unbiased when she was so loyal to Dany but it was times like these she saw why her father made friends with the King.

"Lady Sansa, wonderful to see you. I'm afraid so. Been trying to tell Ned here but he won't listen, not even to his King" he said with a somewhat smug look to her father. The Kings eyes flickered towards her wolf warily and in a little fascination.

Sansa finally looked at her father with a painted displeased look on her face. He was frowning and sat back tiredly and rubbed his face, "Sansa, the realm does not run itself. I cannot just ignore my duties" He said with patience.

Sansa did not waver in her look, "It is very arrogant of you to think that the realm will not keep together if you take one day from your work" She primly stated.

Robert Baratheon was hiding his smile behind his hands. Her father raised his brows, "No one has ever accused me of being arrogant Sansa" His voice was a little amused but with a warning.

Sansa shook her head with a smile and approached her fathers seat, "Perhaps they should. The realm held up for hundreds of years before you came along father and I would be willing to bet that it will survive another day without you" Sansa stated and now stood before her father standing tall and vaguely challenging.

Ned Stark did not yield easily, however, "I am sure it would Sansa but _Winter is Coming_ and the realm must be prepared for that fact" Ned was tolerant but looked weary and drained. Sansa pursed her lips and said back,

"That is wonderful father but remember that I am half Tully, _Family, duty, honour._ Family comes before duty I'm afraid and you are working yourself into an early death. We have not seen each other in years and yet you intend to spend all of your time doing work that can be delayed for a few hours?" Sansa raised her eyebrows and felt a little shame at the guilt that swarmed in her fathers grey eyes at her response, She continued, "I do not intend to let you neglect your family, if mother was not so preoccupied with grandfather she would be saying the same thing"

Sansa stood tall and proud and stared at her father. Ned Stark looked back and eventually a small smile spread across his face, "I am afraid you might be right, Sansa" He admitted ruefully, "My work can wait a few hours, what did you have in mind?" Ned Stark's shoulders sank and for the first time since she entered the room, looked like her wonderful father and not the Hand of the King.

Sansa ignored the praise and mild disbelief from King Robert and smiled at her father, "Perhaps a ride? As someone keeps reminding me, _Winter is Coming_ and we best make the most of the Autumn winds while we can"

King Robert laughed again, "That sounds like an excellent idea" he smiled at her, truly smiled, it made Sansa uncomfortable, Robert was always some idiotic, usurper, whoring mockery of a king. She needed to remember her loyalties to her friend.

Sansa bit her lip and wondered if she should bring it up, "Father... if it is not too... bold to ask. I was just wondering-" She stammered out, both desperate to know how her plans were progressing and uncertain about bringing it up. Had Littlefinger been dismissed yet? Has her father discussed Tyrion's placement at the small council?

Her father frowned again and looked towards the king. Robert was watching with curiosity. Her father cleared his throat, "Yes I have. The king has agreed to dismiss Lord Baelish from the small council effective immediately" Her father said tightly, his face showing clearly hidden anger at the mildness of the punishment. Sansa heard someone shifting and eyes darted up to see Ser Jaime shifting behind the king, her eyes flickered up and she saw a ghost of a smirk and fascination on his face. He knew she was playing a game. Her cheeks coloured a little in embarrassment at being so obvious.

King Robert sighed heavily and drained his goblet, "I understand why your not wanting to work alongside him, Ned, I do, but it is going to be troublesome finding someone as talented at him at making gold coins appear from mid-air" He was frowning into his goblet now.

Sansa hesitantly made eye contact with her father and watched as he sent her a meaningful look. She bit her lip uncertainly.

"Actually I did have someone in mind to take over his position" Her father spoke up. Excitement and glee raced through her. Tyrion needed a position in court. He needed to grow closer to her father and prove his worth. This measure of power would pull him out of Tywin Lannister's strict control.

Robert looked up, "Oh? Who's that?" He asked, not appearing very interested or vested in the subject as he poured another goblet of wine. Sansa's heart raced in anticipation. What would she do if her plans fell?

Lord Stark cleared his throat and made quick eye contact with her before saying quietly but with conviction, "Tyrion Lannister"

Silence swept through the room like a sudden gust of wind. Another shift behind the king altered her to Jaime moving but she couldn't bare to look at him. Her heart raced and she bit her lip, her palms sweating. Sansa peeked at the king as he stared incredulously at his Hand.

"...The imp" He stated redundantly as if her father may not know who he was speaking of. Her father nodded his head and frowned.

The King let out an incredulous bark of laughter, "By the gods Ned, that is the last person I'd have expected you to say" He chuckled a little and shook his head.

The King shifted a little in his seat to look back, "Jaime, that's your younger brother, isn't it?" He asked, again redundantly. Sansa would have felt more comfortable in the situation of Jaime wasn't here. When she looked at him his eyes were bright and alert and his green eyes were swirling when he looked at her.

He moved smoothly to stand beside her but still at an appropriate distance. His face appeared calm and uninterested but his posture told a different story, "Yes it is, your grace" He agreed.

Robert watched his kingsguard member, "And do you think he will be capable of the task?" Robert asked. Jaime smiled roguishly,

"I cannot be certain of his mind but for all that the gods gifted me with my sword, they gifted Tyrion with his brains. I'm sure you couldn't find someone better" His voice was arrogant but pride and affection were also clear if you were looking close enough. Sansa's heart melted a little. Sansa would do all she could to preserve the brotherly bond between the two.

The King looked surprised and shook his head, "Right. I will have to think on it, Ned. A dwarf in the small council?" He laughed again and shook his head as if to scoff at the ridiculousness of it. Sansa frowned.

Robert brightened again, "Now, about that ride eh?" He stood with a smile. Sansa nodded and made her way from the room.

Her father escorted her to the stables while the king wandered off to make preparations. Lady walked dutifully at her side and occasionally stared down a few of the men that stared too deeply at her mistress. She was itching to get out, direwolves were not house pets. They met Uncle Brynden in the stables in his riding leathers and horse ready to go already it seemed. Her father raised his eyebrows at the man.

The Blackfish smirked at her father, "There was really not doubt that Sansa would manage to get you away from your work" he explained and sent a wink to her. Her father appeared unamused but a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Sansa mounted and waited patiently on her mare with Lady eagerly at her side. Her father wandered off to find his own horse and speak with the king. Men were mounting around her and it was to both her pleasure and dismay that Jaime Lannister trots over to her.

"Master of Coin?" He asked immediately but did not look displeased if anything amused and happy at the development, "Don't think I don't see this has you written all over it. I can't help but wonder why, little pup" He said casually but watched her closely as if she were some foreign entity.

Sansa did not look at the knight but answered him, "I told you I would repay you for all the information you have given me over the years. It is indirect I suppose but it is not just for you, I do happen to like your brother" She ignored the blush and heart stutter, hoping he did not see just how much she _did_ like him, "This seemed like a good as opportunity as any. I do not like my father in the south and I doubt you do either. If he brought his own man in for the position it would only tie him to it further"

Jaime Lannister kept watching her and it made Sansa uncomfortable and uneasy at the looks people were giving them. When she looked over at the knight, he smiled a minuscule upturn of his lips. It was barely there but it made Sansa happy.

"Then I thank you, little pup. You have been a true ally to the Lannisters" His voice was as serious as she'd ever heard it. It was true and a little solemn, it made her look up in surprise. This was more like the future, sans-hand Jaime. She blinked in shock.

"Now now, don't take up all Lady Sansa's attention Kingslayer. I think my brother needs you over there, he is about to set off" Sansa turned, a little startled to see Renly Baratheon had ridden up beside her. He was truly very attractive with an easy smile and strong frame. Everytime she looked at him she thought Gendry. A more arrogant and sophisticated looking Gendry.

Sansa smiled at Renly in greeting, "Lord Renly, will you be joining us on our ride?" She inquired politely. The man smiled dashingly back to her, white teeth gleaming. He was very attractive and perhaps if she was not so devoted to Tyrion she would have looked twice.

"Yes I will if it is no trouble to the lady" He smiled again at her and puffed up. Sansa's eyes drifted to his Baratheon coloured doublet and finely stitched clothing. It was all rather much for riding but she did not comment.

"It is no trouble at all, my lord" She chirped back obediently. Why was Renly Baratheon of all people approaching her, smiling and looking pleased as ever?

The kings youngest brother then looked up to Ser Jaime and raised his eyebrows, "I believe my brother is waiting for you, Kingslayer" He commented pointedly. Sansa furrowed her brows and looked to see Ser Jaime did not look pleased at all and seemed a little reluctant to leave her for some reason.

Sansa watched as he trot away. Lord Renly cleared his throat, "Would you allow me to escort you on this ride, my lady?" He asked, amusement now clear on his face and it looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh. At that moment, Ser Loras Tyrell trot over with a frown and eyes lingering between her and Renly. By the old gods, she was not getting involved in this mess.

She smiled tightly at the Lord of the Stormlands and shook her head, "That is a very generous offer my lord but this excursion was to spend some time with my father and I would prefer to be alongside him" She explained, not unkindly. Renly looked shocked and uncomprehending, as if all maidens should fall to his feat. She tried not to roll her eyes.

Thankfully, her father trot over with a frown and eyes darting between her and the men at her side. He did not look happy.

"Sansa, are you ready to go?" He asked and looked almost threateningly at the knight and lord. She nodded and moved away from the two men.

"I shall see you out there, my lord, Ser" She nodded to Loras Tyrell, who was now watching her also but with less hostility and more boredom.

Sansa trot away with her father to one side and Lady to her other. She smiled as they began their ride easily and the men around her raced forward unnecessarily.

Her father trot beside her for a few long moments before asking, "Why did Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell approach you?" He asked with a frown in his voice. A quick check ensured that he was, indeed, frowning with almost a scowl at the tree's ahead.

Sansa couldn't help it but laughed lightly and happily in amusement. Her father's frown faded and he smiled at her, "Yes?" He questioned.

Sansa shook her head at how ridiculous her father could be at times, "Nothing, father, you do know that I love you?" She said as a question. Ned Stark smiled softly at his eldest daughter and said back,

"Yes and I love you Sansa. Now tell me all that has gone on at Winterfell in my absence" He asked and thus began a wonderful and perfect day with her father.

After few hours of catching up and bonding between father and daughter, Ned watched Sansa ride off with a smile on her face and the wind blowing in her long red locks. She was something else, Sansa. So much like Cat yet pure Stark on the inside, he was so proud of her. He was proud of all of his children. To be truthful, he feared his lack of presence in their lives in the last few years would cause problems but it seems like they were growing into their own people without him. Arya, by all accounts, had grown into her strength and bravery and was every inch a northern lady. Robb was honourable and dutiful and would make him proud as protector of the North one day. Bran was definitely the thinker. All of his children held intelligence but there was a certain wisdom and sense of knowing that made Ned stop and take his words carefully. Rickon... dear Rickon, he hadn't seen the boy since he was three. He felt a stab of pain at the thought that his son might not recognise him. Rickon was wild, strong and proud. Much like his Uncle Brandon had been. Wolfs blood his children had. In many ways, he was glad that Sansa lacked the impulsivity and wildness that came from having wolfs blood. She held the family together and for that he would be forever grateful.

The Lord of Winterfell followed behind his daughter as she raced faster with her mare and her large Direwolf by her side easily keeping pace. When he had first seen how large the wolf had grown he felt a little uncertain to gifting his them to his children but when he saw the fear and uneasy looks of men as suitors were intimidated to approach he was pleased with his decision.

War was easier than keeping men away from his daughter.

Ned stopped and watched carefully as Renly Baratheon yet again approached his daughter with an easy smile and friendly gesture. His squire, Loras Tyrell fell in behind him and was staring at the interaction with a frown. He looked rather jealous, perhaps he wanted Sansa's attentions to himself?

He was about to intervene when he heard a laughter to his left, "Calm down there Ned, they're only talking" The Hand of the King turned around to see Robert Baratheon approach on his very large steed. He was tall and powerful though his increasingly large girth made him look softer.

He frowned at his friend and turned back around to watch the interactions. Sansa appeared polite and they were keeping reasonable difference but it still displeased him.

Robert laughed again and came up beside him, "You are really too protective of her, you know that don't you?" His friend was amused but also watched the interaction of his youngest brother and his daughter. Renly Baratheon was unwed, perhaps he was looking for a wife?

Robert scoffed, "Stop your scowling Ned, Renly's not going to try anything and your daughter could do a lot worse for a husband, you know" He noted.

Ned scowled. Renly Baratheon was a high lord. He was lord of the Stormlands. Relatively young, attractive, lacked his brothers penchant for wine and whores. It was true he would not be a bad husband. But... Ned had pictured someone gentle, strong and brave for his daughters. Renly was not dishonourable but lacked strength and cared too much about pageantry. He was weak willed and held very little substance.

"I am aware, I just..." He trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to phrase his words. What man _would_ Ned approve of then? No man he knew would be quite appropriate for his daughter. She was special and no man he knew truly deserved her.

Robert shook his head and sighed, "I know, she's your daughter and you don't want her to grow up. I understand why your so protective of her, I do. After losing..." It was then that Robert trailed off. _Lyanna_. Was that why he was so protective? He did not know. All he knew was until he was certain a man deserved his daughter would be made her a betrothal.

"Yes" Ned agreed quietly. The mood between the friends had dropped and he hastened to change the subject, "Speaking of betrothals, I wanted to speak with you before I made one for Robert, Jon's son" Ned brought up.

Robert looked at him in curiosity so he explained, "I was thinking of requesting a match between her and Stannis daughter, Shireen. They are near the same age and I think that it is time that Robert had a strong hand to guide him" Ned explained.

Robert nodded, "Aye, get it done. The boy needs all the help he can get. I know she's Cat's sister but that woman's done no good for the boy. Too much coddling"

Ned nodded in satisfaction, "I shall send a raven tonight and if he accepts I will take the boy to Dragonstone myself on the way back down south"

The pair of old friends were still trotting along and watching his daughter and Renly Baratheon when the Lord casually reached over when a long dress of her hair blew in the wind. He tucked in back in, in a gesture that was _much_ too intimate to be appropriate.

Ned grit his teeth and pushed his horse forward.

* * *

Sansa felt both awkward and amused. Renly Baratheon of all people took a shine to her. Why on earth was he flirting with her? The one man she _knew_ held no interest in her womanly charms was the most persistent and obvious in his admiration. Loras Tyrell sulked by his side looking annoyed and Sansa felt pity for the man. It was difficult to watch your lover flirt with someone else even if there was no way in seven hells he was attracted to her. It was when he dared to touch her hair that her father suddenly appeared with a scowl and his 'Lord of Winterfell face'

Sansa tried to hide her smile as she nodded with an innocently blank look on her face as her father requested to be alone with the Lord of the Stormlands.

The Stark girl fell back on her horse and watched as her father led the younger man away. She desperately wished she could listen to that conversation. Loras Tyrell followed and hovered in the peripheral of the conversation.

She was startled to see that Robert Baratheon came up to ride along beside her. She bit her lip and considered her options.

"I really wish I could overhear whatever my father is saying to Lord Renly. No doubt it would be quite amusing" She smiled at the King, being courteous but feeling uncomfortable.

Robert laughed easily back, "Quite right. Too protective old Ned is. Not that I can blame him mind you, he needs to make sure no one is being inappropriate with his beautiful young maiden daughter" Robert was still smiling at her and a pit of uneasiness opened up inside her. Was he flirting with her or stating a fact?

Sansa nodded and said quietly, "Yes, he is very protective of me and my sister" She trailed off and painted her face with a shy and hesitant look, "May I be truthful your Grace?"

Robert looked at her from the side of his horse a little in intrigue but nodded his head, "Of course and none of that 'your Grace' nonsense. Ned is like a brother to me" The honesty and true affection for her father made her swallow guilt and shame at her plots to overthrow the man. He was a true friend. It was unfortunate that he was a terrible king, awful husband and general useless human being. But he was not _bad._

"My father has always been very protective of myself and my sister Arya. You see why he gave us large Direwolves as protectors" She stated dryly. Sansa cleared her throat and was uncertain about bringing up this topic but took the risk, "He... still feels... rather guilty about what happened with my Aunt Lyanna"

Her sharp eyes saw the pain and old ache of loss in his blue eyes at the comment. Sansa did not know if it was crueller from him to think that Lyanna was kidnapped and raped rather than did not love Robert like he loved her.

"He feels overprotective of us and thinks that something may happen to us. He is particularly protective of my younger sister Arya. He has never said to myself but many people in Winterfell remark that Arya is my Aunt's double and has the exact same nature. Sometimes he looks as if he is seeing a ghost when he sees my younger sister. I can't image how much she resembles now that she is almost a woman"

Sansa felt guilt at the pain in the older man's eyes and her shameless manipulation of his feelings to her advantage.

Robert nodded seriously and said with a sigh, "yes I understand"

The pair then rode in silence and Sansa felt, even more, guilt when she realised that he was riding beside her as an escort for protection in her fathers absence. The man would chop her head of himself if he knew she had been writing a Targaryen

Sansa cleared her throat and spoke again, "I must apologise to you, your Grace for it was my suggestion to make Tyrion Lannister master of coin" She brought up, hoping by any chance to sway the man's view.

The King was visibly startled by this and looked at her in surprise, "Oh? Why is that, have you ever met the imp?" He frowned but was not disproving or judging. Sansa tried to fight off a smile.

"Indeed I have. He visited the Winterfell if you recall and after my brother was crippled he kindly designed a special saddle so that he may ride again"

Robert looked amused so she continued, "I know that you have reservations but truthfully I was worried about the rising animosity between the Stark's and Lannisters and hoped this may help the situation. I am aware my father hold no love for the Lannisters but if there a chance for him to tolerate any of them then Tyrion Lannister may be the only hope"

The King frowned and rubbed his head in exasperation, "Rising animosity?" He asked in irritation.

Sansa paused for a minute to decide how to address the delicate topic, "Yes, in case you hadn't noticed my family members keep threatening Ser Jaime" She sighed in annoyance.

Robert actually laughed for a moment but did still look troubled, "Yes I had heard about that. Apparently, you have been spending time with Jaime" The King watched her carefully and curiously though no judgement was on his face.

Sansa pursed her lips, "I ran into him in a hall and greeted him before my uncle found us and have stumbled upon him a few times, each time with an escort. It was all purely coincidental" She explained.

Robert, surprisingly, looked skeptical, "I know he's a member of the Kingsguard but he is still a man and you should remember that" His voice was a little serious. She tried not to gape in shock. She merely blinked quickly.

The King then continued, "Not that he isn't a nice lad. He's been a member of my guard for years and is better natured than most. Ned really needs to get over the whole 'dishonourable' thing. It's a bit much really, stubborn Ned till the end though"

Sansa was very surprised by this assessment. Doesn't Ser Jaime hate Robert for his treatment of his sister? Apparently, the feeling wasn't mutual. This development was interesting but one she did not think much on in the present moment.

"Yes and uh-" Sansa pretended to be shy and bashful here and dropped her head, "Forgive me if I am being rude but... I had noticed that the Queen isn't rather fond of me or my father either" Her voice was quiet and ashamed. She sounded scared and like a little girl at that moment.

Rage flickered across the man's face and it alarmed her immediately. Lady pressed against her side reassuringly and bared her teeth at the King. Fortunately, he did not notice.

"Don't worry about her, I will set her right" His voice was low and threatening, large hands tightly gripping his reins ominously.

Sansa got a glimpse into why Cersei had turned so bitter and it was an uncomfortable realisation. Still, she followed on, needing to get Tyrion to Kings Landing.

"I believe that making Tyrion Lannister Master of Coin it will ease tensions and he will keep animosity from rising too high" She said quietly.

Robert sighed, "I understand your wish but I need people I can trust at the small council and I was hoping Ned would bring one of his own men in. Someone he knows to be loyal"

Brief panic seized her and she took two deep breaths before focusing her mind carefully. She _needed_ Tyrion at Kings Landing.

A brilliant idea came to her, "My father invited me down south after the Tourney and I was planning on convincing my Uncle Brynden to follow to help ease my fathers burdens. If you wish for a loyal man on your council then why not appoint him as acting Master of Ships? Your brother has not been in his position in years I believe, Ser Brynden could temporarily take over the position?" Sansa suggested and wanted to dance at her stroke of genius. Tyrion would be proud of her cunning. She would have to tell him one day.

King Robert looked thoughtful but interested by her suggestion so she continued, "This way you may keep the peace between the Stark's and Lannisters and have a loyal man on your council" She smiled happily then and the King turned to grin back at her.

It seemed she would definitely be meeting Tyrion soon in Kings Landing.


	19. Chapter 19

The Tourney would be finishing this day. There were still several competitors yet only a few mattered to her. She was especially pleased that Brienne was still going strong. Jaime also claimed victory after victory. Renly Baratheon was still in the running as well as Ser Preston from the kingsguard, Ser Rondar Royce and a few lords of the Riverlands and Vale. Sansa was truly curious now as to who would win. If Brienne won, would she crown a Queen of Love and Beauty? Sansa tried not to smile at this thought. The shock of a woman beating all of the men would be glorious and Brienne would _finally_ be recognised as a true contender and fierce warrior.

The Blackfish was with his brother this day as well as her Uncle Edmure and mother. It seemed as if Hoster Tully was on his last few breaths. Sansa wondered if she should be present but then thought she never truly knew the man and did not want to intrude on his last dying moments.

Therefore, she was seated beside her father in the royal box. Ned Stark sat at the Kings left side. The Queen and her children were seated on the opposite side of the King. Sansa was relieved there was some sort of buffer between her and the blond Prince that kept shooting looks her way. Sansa herself was tucked away at her father's side and extremely happy for that fact; She would not be expected to prattle idly with anyone. The king was already drunk and shouting his praise and criticisms at the field so she had her father's full attention.

"I sent a missive this morning, dismissing Lord Baelish from the Small Council and warning him to never return to Kings Landing" Her father murmured beside her as they watched Ser Preston being thrown from his horse by Renly Baratheon. The crowd thundered their applause.

Sansa was more interested in what her father was saying, "That is excellent news father" She sent him a little pleased smile.

Ned did not smile back at his daughter but did nod, "The king approved of your choice as Master of Coin also Sansa, I sent out the message this morning with the Kings seal on it"

A spark of excitement and satisfaction shot down her spine. Sansa grinned widely but thankfully her moment of joy was not misplaced as Renly Baratheon was now bowing at the adoring crowd and many people were fawning over him.

Her father continued to update her, "I sent a message to Stannis with a betrothal request. If he accepts I intend to take Jon's son to Dragonstone myself on the way to Kings Landing. I also heard that you recommended Ser Brynden as Acting Master of Ships. Have you spoken with your great uncle yet?" He asked, with a knowing look at her. Sansa bit her lip and dipped her head bashfully. She had not but he would not refuse... would he? Perhaps she was being too presumptuous.

Her father shook his head and sighed, "It is an excellent idea Sansa but you need to consult people before you make plans for them. Your ability to bend others to your will is a gift but also very dangerous. Be careful of the plans you make for others. Do not forget yourself or think yourself better than others. That is a deadly path that many do not see their way back from" He stated quietly but powerfully. It was a warning and one that she took very seriously. He was absolutely right. She was being very controlling and manipulative. Where does one draw the line between necessary and overstepping their bounds? Sansa sighed.

"Of course father" She mumbled equally as serious. Her father turned to give her a tired smile to show her he was not wroth with her. The girl smiled back at her father in relief.

They both turned back to the field when they heard cheering. Ser Jaime Lannister had thrown his competitor from their horse and was grinning proudly to the crowd. His hair and armour glistened in the light and she tried not to smile as she thought of him again as a little piece of sunshine.

The next round was the semi-finals and the victor would go against the Lion of Casterly Rock himself. Sansa struggled to keep her composure as she tried not to lean forward in her seat in excitement. Brienne would be competing in the semi finals against Renly Baratheon. If her sworn shield won this round she would have a very real chance at being the winner. Sansa held her breath and watched Brienne race down the field with her lace strongly by her side.

To her shock and dismay, Brienne fell from her horse and she watched as everyone around her yelled and cheered for the youngest brother of the king. Sansa frowned as she watched Renly Baratheon prance around the field in his steed and pompously bask in the adoration of the onlookers. The red headed lady's gaze drifted back to Brienne as she picked herself up from the dust, it was with slight appeasement that Sansa saw Renly dismount and help her sworn shield from the ground kindly. Brienne was going so strong, it was such a shame for her to lose now.

Sansa watched as the field cleared again and everyone screamed for the final round. The stands were overflowing with nobles. Smallfolk stood out with the seating area and huddled close together. Hundreds of people were gathered and singers were already playing their harps and making listless tunes. It was a chaos of noise.

Sansa was curious at this point. Just who would be the victor? She hoped for Jaime though his ego needing no inflating. Neither did Renly Baratheon's either to be fair.

It was with mild interest that she watched the two go at it repeatedly. Horses sprinting and lances clashing. This went on for a while as both men were quite skilled. The roaring of the crowd was distracting and irritating her by this point as it seemed to get louder the longer the men parried.

Eventually, someone fell from their horse.

It was obvious whom had been defeated. The victor of the tournament sat tall on his horse glittering like a beacon in his golden armour, his white cloak billowing in the breeze. Sansa clapped politely and in satisfaction. Jaime Lannister looked regal and powerful in that moment. The kingsguard member often boasted how he would be the victor in their letters and he did, indeed, win. Sansa was proud of him.

Her father frowned to her right, the only individual displeased by the result. The crowd then surged forward onto the field, cheering by the masses. Robert Baratheon was grinning and cheering with the rest of them. Prince Joffrey looked arrogant and was smirking in satisfaction as if he himself had won. Myrcella was clapping politely, Tommen was smiling happily and the Queen looked imperious and superior at her twins victory. _Everyone but her father was smiling._

Sansa nudged the Hand of the king gently and smiled at him, "relieved this is over father?" She asked loudly to be heard over the screams of the public. Her father sighed and looked years older when he nodded back tiredly.

After a while, the cheers calmed down a little and the King rose from his chair to proclaim Ser Jaime Lannister the champion. Everyone in the royal box stood forward to be present when he was declared. Sansa stood directly at the railing and was trying not to smile down at the knight. Her father stood quietly behind her with a stony face and held her shoulders.

The golden man kneeled before his king. When he was declared victor the crowd went even wilder than before, if such a feat was possible. Sansa was a little confused, did people not disdain the Kingslayer? The cheers of devotion and joy said otherwise. The Stark girl was still stood against the railing with her fathers hand on her shoulders to steady her. Ned Stark clearly wanted to leave as the tourney had descended into disorder. Smallfolk and nobles alike had crowded on the field again as Jaime Lannister trot around them, people trailing behind him like a magnetic pull, a true sun with his own gravitational pull.

Sansa was busy watching the boisterous crowd with a frown. This event turned out to be much larger than she had expected. Jaime Lannister retrieved the crown of flowers and was now to crown the Queen of Love and Beauty. Sansa watched as he trot back over to the King's box, eyes locked with his twin. It was no surprise whom he would be crowning. The King was smiling and the crowd seemed to hush – only a little – as he approached the stand.

Jaime Lannister stopped his horse before his twin sister.

Cersei Lannister seemed to stand taller, filled with pride and arrogance. She stood with an air of expectation and haughtiness. She knew that she would be crowned. Sansa ignored to urge to roll her eyes and instead let out a small smile and shook her head. The woman had no notion of gratitude or humility. She _expected_ everything from life because she was simply 'better' than others. Cersei never had to work for her intelligence, a good match, love or power. She had been gifted with it all. A path Sansa herself had taken before tragedy struck in her previous life.

Sansa watched as Ser Jaime sat atop his horse and smiled beautifully at his twin. Sansa saw the crown of flowers in the Kingslayers hand from the corner of her eye but she continued watching Cersei. The Stark girl was curious about the current Queens queen's reaction and if any trace of love or affection would appear on her face. Her arrogance and smirk faded slightly and emerald eyes fluttered in confusion for a moment as the sound of hooves against the ground immediately started up again.

Whispers ran rampant but the knight did not move far, in fact, he raced by on his horse as something flew through the air towards the royal box. A beautiful wreath of blue, yellow and red flowers smacked against Sansa's stomach. Her hands reached out and she grabbed it instinctively in surprise. She blinked and looked down, her mind not yet registering what had occurred. Ned Starks hand tightened on her shoulders. Her heart beat in her ears. She looked up slowly to see Ser Jaime Lannister grinning directly at her and bowed his body chivalrously.

To her, it felt like the world had been frozen in ice, like the long winter slowly approaching had suddenly appeared.

She gazed listlessly around the field and yet everyone was _screaming_ in joy. They were chanting, singing, yelling their praise and hysteria was sweeping through the crowd like wildfire. She blinked slowly as she turned to see the Queen had already stormed off with her children, hastily making their way through the stands. Joffrey kept looking back to sneak looks at her. Myrcella was grinning and waved as she moved hurriedly with her mothers hand clutched to her wrist. Sansa turned to look at the King and saw Robert smile a little at her and nod to the crown still in her hands expectantly. What should she do? What could she do? The expectation on Robert Baratheon's face was a slap to hers. What had _happened?_

Sansa slowly reached up and placed it atop her head.

The crowd roared, reminding her of the House words of the man prancing up and down the field in glee. _Hear me roar._ Well, everyone has certainly heard the Kingslayer. Her fathers stony silence from behind her was oppressive and to her surprise, it was King Robert that approached with a smile and placed his arm around her shoulders amicably. Subtly removing her fathers tight grip from her.

"Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms..." The entire field swiftly quieted down, "I give you, your Queen of Love and Beauty; Sansa Stark" He bellowed, Robert Baratheon's powerful voice larger than life.

The screams echoed again in her ears like the drums of war. Smallfolk and nobles alike blended together and were grinning and cheering side by side. Almost every inch of the field was covered in flowers and Jaime stood tall in his golden armour grinning like a man who had just conquered the world.

 _What has he done?_

* * *

Ned scowled as he made his way swiftly through the castle. At last, the final night of this murmurs farce. It had not been the break from duties and spending time with his family as he'd hoped. No, it was becoming more entrenched in politics and southern nonsense. Things had changed and so had his family. His little Sansa had all grown up in body as well as mind. And now of all men, _the Kingslayer_ had his eyes on her.

He entered the busy hall and made his way directly towards his oldest friend. His oldest friend that was interfering and causing issues with _his_ family. He sat down quietly, barely noticed as everyone around him had already started eating.

The King beside him rolled his eyes, "Still not calmed down eh Ned? You need to give Ser Jaime more credit. He crowned your daughter Queen of Love and Beauty, he wasn't caught with his hand up her skirts" He rolled his eyes and took a deep drink from his goblet. At the thought, rage rushed through him. How _dare_ the Kingslayer publicly announce his sights on his daughter.

Ned grit his teeth as he replied, "I give him all the credit he is due" he answered back as best as he could. His eyes searched around the hall for the disgraced knight. He was not present. Robert's eldest son was on his other side and giving quick looks and eager faces towards his disinterested father.

"Gods Ned, it's been years, let it go. So he killed a King. A mad Targaryen king that deserved to die. I pardoned him from his crimes so let it go" He sighed and muttered, "Stubborn Stark alright"

The Hand of the King had the strong urge to resign on the spot but said back calmly with forced patience, "You should not have rewarded him a white cloak for his crimes" Ned repeated something he had said many times before, feeling his anger rise at the Lannister.

Robert simply laughed him off, "Reward him? If I wanted to reward him I would honourably discharge him from the Kingsguard, let him go marry a pretty maiden and inherent the West. That would be a fitting reward for slaying the mad king" He laughed loudly then. Heads inclined towards the pair and the noise in the hall toned down noticeably. Robert had drawn attention with his last statement.

Ned closed his eyes and felt his hand twitch for Ice longingly. How he wished he could let out his anger with Robert in a spar like the old days.

"Besides" Robert continued in between bites of his potatoes, "He honoured your daughter by crowning her. Don't let your hatred for the knight blind you. She will fondly remember the day she was crowned Ned. It doesn't mean anything and she did deserve it" He paused for a moment to fill his mouth with more food.

Robert's son – Joffrey - then cut in to say, "You are absolutely right father, only a fool would not have crowned the Lady Sansa. She was by far the most beautiful maiden present. She would be an excellent Queen" The young man simpered at his fathers side. Ned felt almost pity for the young man as he knew Robert detests such a son. He wanted a strong, unyielding and powerful heir and not one that begged for approval.

The King snorted and then laughed through his wine, "You think you can handle a Stark woman? I don't think so Joff. Aye, she would make an excellent Queen but will never be _your_ Queen. Jaime would make a better husband than you" His words were a little slurred and he laughed as if he had told a great joke.

Ned's frown deepened as he saw Joffrey redden as he rose him the table to storm away, the Hound slipping away behind him. The Lord of Winterfell had never felt so ashamed of his friend in his life. Not only had he made more insinuations of his Sansa with the _Kingslayer_ but also publicly humiliated his own son.

The Lord of Winterfell stood up and walked away from the discredited product of his former friend. Some days he wondered if the Robert he knew was in there at all.

* * *

Sansa sat with her head down staring at her lap inside her Grandfather Tully's chambers with a pounding headache. She was ushered away by her father immediately after she was crowned. From there, her Tully family – aside from Lysa – had converged to discuss the issue at hand.

There was shouting, accusations and lots of rage. For a moment, Sansa feared the war between the Stark's and Lannister's would come about again. The solution, apparently, was to immediately set up a betrothal for her. It would dispell any rumors of her and the Kingslayer once and for all. No one could question her honour then.

Sansa wiped tears from her face discreetly as the discussion on who to pair her with continued. She ignored the conversation in favour of listening to her grandfathers wheezing breaths. Any could be his last and yet they were all more concerned with who to imprison her to in matrimony.

"I shall discuss the options with Ned when he returns" Her mother's voice broke through her haze. She ignored it. Sansa wiped her face again.

The Blackfish said, "Perhaps we should give you a moment alone. We shall wait outside, just shout if there is any change with Hoster" His voice was tinged with sorrow and pity. She wanted none of it.

Sansa listened as her uncle and grand-uncle left the room and closed the door softly behind them.

Hot tears continued to stream from her eyes. What would she do without Tyrion? He was her rock. Memories of their marriage and love had kept her strong these last few years. It helped her to deal with the pain and trauma of her previous life. They had been apart more years than they were married though their time together was the most meaningful and fulfilling of her life. What about their babe? Her future with Dany. Perhaps she could flee to the free cities. Brienne would follow her and Dany would welcome them. But such a betrayal to her kin. Could she truly do such a thing? No. She could not.

Sansa watched as her mother approached only to kneel on the floor at her feet. She gently lifted Sansa's head so she could look her mother in the eye. Catelyn Stark's eyes were drowning in sympathy, "Oh Sansa" She sighed, her voice full of affection, "I am so sorry" Her mother whispered and then wiped her cheeks. Catelyn Stark did truly look heartbroken as she looked at her daughter. Her blue eyes were swimming also as she cradled her eldest daughters face.

Sansa let out a shaky breath, "You are not or else you would not be doing this to me" Her voice was small and childlike as she replied. How could her mother do this to her? Resign her to a loveless life?

"Sansa" She sighed again, "I know this is unfair but it must be done. You have been so smart these last few years, you know this is the best thing for you. I wish we had time for you to be courted and take a liking to knights and lords and with our approval, pick your own husband but I'm afraid that can't happen" Her mother's voice was soothing and kind and it only broke Sansa's heart more.

"Why can we not? I could find someone within the next two moons. I swear it" She pleaded with desperation creeping into her tone. Her mother's hands slipped from her face and into her hands.

Catelyn Stark simply studied her face for a few moments, "Who is it?" She murmured with love on her face warring with the sorrow.

Sansa bit her lip a little and looked down before staring back at her mother. "Pardon?" She whispered. Sansa's heart pounded and palms sweated. She tried to remain impassive and she was not sure she succeeded.

Catelyn Stark gave her a small but beautiful smile and rose to her feet only to sit on the edge of the Lord Tully's bed, directly across from her and still regarding her closely.

"This man that has stolen your heart" Lady Stark explained gently. Sansa looked down with a blush. Could she confess such a thing to her mother? She dreamed of Tyrion and her father talking politics over a glass of wine, dinners at Winterfell with Tyrion making jokes and bewitching her family like he did her.

She remained silent.

"Sansa" Her mother sighed her name, "I only want what is best for you. I cannot swear to make it better or make a match for you. But Sansa, I am your mother, I will never judge you for the wishes of your heart or make this more difficult than it has to be. Please lighten your burden by sharing it with me" Catelyn Stark held womanly strength. It quiet strength that was unyielding and impenetrable. It was the kind of strength that was inner and not outer. It got you through the tough times and endured the pain to enjoy the best. She wished she was more like her mother.

Sansa sighed and looked up hesitantly, still uncertain whether or not to share her heart with her mother.

Catelyn watched her curiously with a furrowed brow, "Is it Theon Greyjoy?" She questioned with only a hint of disapproval in her tone.

Sansa let out a laugh and shook her head, "Gods no mother" She giggled and gave her mother an amused look. Catelyn smiled a tiny bit in relief. She then sat back, appearing more at ease. Hoster Tully continued to wheeze in the background. The sun was beginning to fall through the windows, creating shadows of light.

"...The bastard blacksmith?" Her eyebrows were raised and her displeasure was hidden behind a mask of indifference but it was there. Sansa tried not to frown and give her mother a disappointed look. She had never been fond of Gendry. Sansa shook her head.

Sansa shook her head no, afraid if she spoke then it would cause a quarrel.

Catelyn's blue eyes continued to study her and looked deep in thought, "Just to be certain... it is _not_ Jaime Lannister, is it?" Her mother looked uncertain and worried. Sansa had to laugh again while shaking her head. Her mother was so close yet so far away.

Catelyn Stark looked a little frustrated but was also smiling, "I see. I apologise, I just wanted to make certain. I am most confused Sansa, whom else have you spoken to? You are most adamant it is not the Prince. Who could it be? Is it King Robert's younger brother Renly?" Lady Stark pursed her lips and watched her daughter intently.

Sansa's eyed widened in surely not a ladylike way, "Of course not mother! Renly Baratheon, how ridiculous" She again shook her head and imaged a life as Renly's wife. No children and he would always be better dressed than her. How horrific.

Sansa saw the frustration on her mothers face as well as confusion and decided to help, "Mother, I... I don't know what to say" She sighed heavily in a resigned fashion, "He is... smart" She stated quietly, looking up into her mothers face, feeling great relief to explain why she loved her Tyrion, "So very smart" She smiled, "His sheer knowledge and wisdom astounds me... sometimes it is so uncomprehending but he is also so patient in explaining yet never looks down on others. He is also so witty and funny, mother. He makes me smile and laugh" Sansa felt her face stretch into an easy grin and her heart flutter at the thought of her husband. No one could ever replace him. The young girl's eyes stared directly into her mothers and it felt like she was beaming from the inside.

Sansa continued, "He is just so different and makes me feel valued. He makes me feel so safe and light. Every time I speak to him it's like seeing the world in a whole new way... I just- I don't think I could ever marry anyone that... wasn't him" Sansa finished in a desperate whisper.

"Oh Sansa" Her mother sighed. The girl looked up to her mother to see pain and determination warring on her face. Catelyn Tully stood with a jerky movement, far from her usual grace and walked towards the high windows to stare across the grounds.

Sansa felt a little embarrassed and raw from pouring her heart and love out to her mother. Her marriage had never been something she'd shared with any of her kin before. Aside from the grand-uncle Brynden that only seemed to tolerate it so long as she was content.

Eventually, her mother turned around slowly, the determination and fierceness of her features immediately making Sansa take note. Her mother walked slowly towards her with closed lips and bright blue eyes, face deeply concentrated. Catelyn Stark moved with a certain predatory stance that shows she was truly a fit to bear the Stark name.

Her mother sat on the chair beside of her, making Sansa angle her body. Her mother stared straight into her eyes then and took her hands.

She began slowly, "Sansa, as your mother it is both my duty and privilege to raise you, protect you and ensure that when I am gone you will have a safe and fulfilling life" Catelyn then closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. A feeling of dread was spreading throughout her body like an all-consuming fog. The Stark girl knew what would happen next.

Her mother's blues met hers again, "And as such, I must be certain that in your naivety and youth that you do not make any grievous mistakes" Her voice had gone soft and gentle. Sansa closed her eyes in defeat, unable to look at her mother.

The older woman continued, "That being said, this journey to my old home and your own uncanny knowledge has made me rethink my beliefs"

Sansa's eyes shot open to look more closely at her mothers face. Catelyn Stark looked calm but determined as she continued, "I do not wish to make the same mistake as my father. I can see what it has done to my sister and I cannot bear if it were to happen to you. Yes, I must ensure your future but I must also ensure your _happiness._ I love you Sansa and I cannot be the one to throw your happiness away. You are so much more than I ever was at your age. We as woman cannot rule in this man's world and we must grab onto whatever joy we may find"

Her mothers voice very matter of fact though her face was awash with love and compassion. Lady Stark's eyes watered. Sansa had never loved her mother more than she did at that moment then.

Sansa gasped, sobbed and grabbed her mother in an unyielding embrace. Her face was crumpled in sorrow filled joy and she felt positively light in jubilation.

Lady Stark was smiling softly as she pulled her daughter back, wiping her tears with a tissue and hushing her. She then took a deep breath,

"If I am to aid you in this matter, Sansa, I must be certain of a few things" Her voice was very serious and Sansa swallowed and nodded in acceptance.

"Is he of high birth enough and station?" Her mother inquired with furrowed brows and searching eyes.

Sansa almost laughed, "Yes mother, he is. A powerful and wealthy House, I swear it" The conviction and Stark Steel to her voice made her mother raise her brows but smile nonetheless.

"I see. He is still currently unattached and has not made any prior betrothal agreements?" Again, her mother searched her face closely. It was almost amusing. The questions her mother was asking certainly _did_ matter, however, they were not ones that would reveal his identity or reasons Catelyn would not want her to wed him. Yes, on paper Tyrion was an _excellent_ match.

Sansa shook her head with a wry smile this time. How fortunate was she that most of the realm was disgusted with her wonderfully unique Tyrion, "Of course not mother, I swear it"

The Stark girl did not smile but the happiness and relief on her face must be extremely obvious, even for her mother to see.

Catelyn Stark then nodded again with a tiny relieved smile, "I see. I cannot go directly against your father, you must understand. If you are certain of your decision then I will stall any betrothal choices by two moons. Which should be enough time for you to attempt courting and find if your affections will be returned. If you can manage to bewitch this man with all the charm and beauty I know you to possess and he sends us a betrothal agreement then I will do my best to convince your father. That is if he is suitable enough"

Sansa thought her heart may stop for a moment. She jumped from her seat in glee and shock. This was her only hope. Her _chance._ Much like her mother before, determination filled her as many plots filled her head and heart.

Looking directly back at her mother she spoke in a quiet but unyielding voice, "It shall be done" She promised.

Catelyn Stark smiled back at her daughter before standing and taking her into another deep embrace, "I have faith in you" She whispered.

Mother and daughter hugged for a long time as both felt the love and bittersweet sorrow of the moment. Sansa would no longer be her baby anymore and would become a woman due to be wed and married soon. Then have babes of her own.

A hesitant knock on the door broke them from their moment as Ser Brynden Tully poked his head in hesitantly, "Is everything alright? You two have been in here a while" He was quiet and looked concerned. The elderly knight's eyes drifted towards his dying brother.

The reality of the situation hit Sansa as she realised what was important here. She daintily cleared her throat and fixed the creases on her gown nervously, "Yes we are quite fine. I shall leave you all to say your goodbyes" Her voice was quiet and respectful.

Sansa walked over to the grandfather she had never really known and kissed him on the forehead in farewell and whispered a prayer for him. The young girl gave her mother one last hug and nodded respectfully to her grand uncle as she left the room.

It had been a long and tiresome day and the celebrations were still going on. Her head ached and she wished nothing more to huddle under her furs like she did as a child but knew she would only be plagued with dreadful thoughts and nightmares.

Sansa decided to take Lady on a small walk to clear her head and rebelliously ignored her instructions from her father to have a constant escort. It was perhaps childish but she felt a certain betrayal from her father. Why did he not believe that there was nothing between her and Jaime Lannister? Why was he forcing her into a loveless echo of a marriage? It was not fair.

The girl managed to exit the castle unseen as she heard shouts and drunken jubilation coming from the Great Hall. Lady walked obediently by her side and brushed her large head against her several times, canine eyes drifting towards her as if she knew something was wrong.

Sansa allowed her hand to drift leisurely through her companions soft fur.

The night's air was chilly and she could see her breath though it did not concern her. She was a child of the north and could withstand much worse. The pair walked aimlessly through the empty and darkened lands surrounding Riverrunn castle. The breeze brought with it a foul stench of something rotten. Sansa scrunched her nose up delicately and walked in the opposite direction of the faint but putrid smell. Lady did her business and began to wander curiously by following her nose around. Sansa watched with fondness as her wolf scoped the area.

"Ah, if it isn't my Queen of Love and Beauty" A slightly slurred voice called out teasingly.

Turning around sharply, pure frustration and icy detachment filling her heart. Sansa could very easily make out the champion of the Tourney. His bright and ridiculous gold armour shined in the dark night. Ser Jaime Lannister approached her with an easy and pleased smile upon his handsome face. Perhaps if Sansa's heart had not already been captured and this knight was not the most frustrating individual to have ever lived; she might have become besotted with him.

"Ser" The Stark girl spoke tightly, Steel and ice making her tone as frigid as the north. The kingsguard member raised his eyebrows as he stopped before her. His green eyes were friendly and light and it made her all the more frustrated. What right did this man have to approach her after condemning her?

"Someone is in a bit of a mood. Feast not to your liking?" He asked in an amused fashion. How _dare_ he mock her.

Sansa's spine felt fashioned by Gendry's hammer, "Pardon me, _Ser,_ I do not think it is appropriate for me to entertain you without an escort. If you will excuse me, I shall retire to my chambers" She spoke in a dignified manner with a straight back and voice steady. Sansa was a Stark and a true lady. Jaime Lannister was nothing more than a self-involved fool that has caused her endless complications. How could he be so foolish?

Lady Sansa Stark dignified the disgraced knight with only a quick look before turning sharply and whistling to draw the attention of her wolf. Immediately, she heard the shuffling noises of Lady approaching from the dark.

The Stark girl made to walk away when a gloved hand touched her gently on her upper arm. She jerked around and glared at the knight, "Unhand me, _Ser"_ She hissed, blue eyes flashing. Lady - now by her side - bared her teeth and let out a low warning growl. He dropped his hand.

Jaime Lannister's face had lost its smirk. He was still smiling in a cheeky way though his green eyes told the story of confusion and slight unease, "Calm yourself, my lady" He replied good naturedly. The Lannister's eyes flickered down to her large wolf for a moment, "I meant no harm. I was simply delighted to see my Queen of love and beauty. Will you not thank me for crowning you as I said I would?" His voice was filled with amusement and slight mocking but Sansa heard the underlying honesty. Dear gods, what would she do this man?

The Stark girl sighed heavily and shook her head. It had been a long day indeed, "I believed you to be jesting. I did not think you foolish enough to actually crown me Ser" She muttered and rubbed her face in an agitated manner. Sansa should really have known he was being truthful.

Looking up, she saw confusion and frustration painted clearly across the Lannisters face, "Foolish? I honour you and you call me a fool? Are you ashamed to be crowned by such a _dishonourable_ knight, my lady?" He questioned, mocking smirk tight on his face.

Sansa closed her eyes for a moment before looking directly into Jaime's eyes, "Ser, do you not realise what you have done? Rumours of our secret love have been following me around this entire tourney. I understand it may all be amusing to you but to me, it is a question of my honour" She explained. Jaime frowned and eyed her speculatively as she continued, "After your display today, not only have I made a lifelong enemy with your sister, my family is rushing me towards an unwanted betrothal before anyone can question my honour or try to wed _us_ together" She hissed and took another look around the empty courtyard. Thank the maiden no one was about.

Jaime Lannister looked shocked. His handsome face was filled with realisation as the consequences of his childish actions finally dawned on him. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Sansa turned her back to him again, "You have yet to realise that your actions have consequences, not just to yourself but to everyone around you. I pray that I can resolve this issue before it's too late. Please... just leave me alone Ser Jaime. You have done enough" She said quietly.

The eldest Stark girl then walked away slowly with her direwolf lurking at her side. Sansa knew it wasn't Jaime's fault. _Not really._ He had told her it was his intention to crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. It was a gesture of friendship and affection. However, Cersei would now be out for her blood, quite literally. She might still be forced to wed some knight or lord. Her very honour is at stake. Ser Jaime is highborn. He must have known this. The last time a Stark woman was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, an entire dynasty fell. She knew she was being unfair but couldn't find it in her heart to care.

It was with these morose thoughts that she wandered back towards the castle, hoping to collapse onto her bed for the night. The same vile stench from before reached her nose and she quickened her steps.

Suddenly, Lady beside her paused in her steps and let out a small growl. Sansa only spared her wolf a passing glance to see her companions fur stood on its end and tail flicking in an agitated manner. Sansa stopped and frowned at her wolf.

Lady crouched onto her haunches and lept with speed and grace in Sansa's direction. The lady jerked out of the way clumsily as her wolf pounced with deadly precision. Heart racing and eyes wide Sansa noted her wolf had landed on something dark and snarling. Another wolf? No a hound or dog. The Stark girl took several steps back in fear when she heard a growl from behind her. Spinning around, she stared wide eyed at an ugly brown hound. It growled furiously at her with wild eyes and drool spilling from its sharp teeth. Sansa froze in terror.

A snarl to her left and a rush of grey fur darting in front of her, showed that Lady had come to her rescue. Her loyal wolf ripped and lunged at the hound, several other dogs join the fray, snarling and biting viciously.

Sansa shook as she unsheathed her small dragon glass dagger. This was much different from sparring sessions with Brienne and Arya. Everything was happening so quickly. She had to help Lady. The canines moved in a blur, Lady's form larger than the others, light grey and stained with red compared to the dark fur of the smaller hounds. How many were they? At least five.

Her breaths were coming in pants by now. Sansa shuffled towards the animals when the stink from before almost assaulted her senses. She turned around suddenly, only to duck at the large sword swinging in her direction. She screamed in fright and stumbled backward. A filthy and utterly appalling smelling man stood in front of her. He smelled so awful, she lifted her left hand to cover her nose. The man was adorned in rags, smiling a slimly little grin, showing his broken and rotted teeth. He approached her slowly, small breaths of excited laughter escaping his mouth.

Sansa stumbled backward and held a trembling hand out to try and stop the attack. A longsword that had seen better days was held carelessly by the man, more like a butcher than a swordsman.

The Stark stumbled into someone behind her. She screamed again and her arms were gripped harshly in a restraining manner as a man laughed in her ear. Sansa struggled as a blade was placed almost gently at her throat. The bite of the blade was colder than beyond the wall.

The disgusting man in front of her laughed a little as he staggered closer, lifting his large sword up clumsily. A snarl and a blur of gray crashed into her attacker. Sansa sighed in relief in seeing her wonderful wolf alive. Blood coated her entire head and smeared across her body. Sansa couldn't see any visible wounds on her friend.

The knife at her throat drew closer and pinched her skin.

Sansa Stark and the man behind her watched with a sense of dull detachment as Lady first bit and almost tore the man's hand off, the one holding the sword. It dropped softly on the grass. The man screamed and flailed around now, his own blood staining everything around him crimson as he held his hands up in a meager attempt to defend himself.

The man screamed and screamed, his wailing drifting off into the darkness. Lady sunk her teeth into his jugular and _pulled._ The wolf did not _quite_ severe his head but almost succeeded in doing so. When her attacker's body flopped to the ground, his head rolled away only to be stopped by a small patch of skin at the back of his scalp that was still attached to the neck. The knife at her throat trembled.

Sansa heard a whimpering coming from behind her and not from the man with the blade to her throat, "Ee's dead" Another man's voice whispered. How many men were there? He sounded sounding lowborn, " _Dead._ It killed all them hounds... I-it's a bloody _monster"_ His voice trembled and Sansa watched with satisfaction as Lady now crouched on the ground, eyes locked onto the man behind her. Her muzzle was pulled back and dripping with blood. Lady's fur was now more red streaked with grey. She was focused, alert, predatory... but most of all _ready_.

A loud thump behind her broke the silence and strange stalemate they were in. The man behind her quivered as he tried to turn his head, "...Skinner?" He asked fearfully, jerking her around as he looked back to see his friend.

"Not quite" An arrogant voice drawled out. Relief washed over her in waves. _Ser Jaime._

 _"Who're-"_ The man managed to get out before Jaime lunged forward and gripped the man by the wrist, forcefully pulling the blade away from her throat. She gasped and reeled backward to watch Jaime fight the man with a crude sword he must have found. Where was the knight's sword?

Yet another man crept up behind the sparring pair. Jaime had the sword held high - ready to deliver the final blow - when the cowardly man behind him lifted his on blade behind Jaime's back...

" _Jaime-behind-you"_ She screamed out in a rush of words. Immediately the kingsguard knight twisted his head back for a second and hurled his body to the right, out of the oncoming sword as fast as he could.

...unfortunately, it is not fast enough. The blade hit Jaime on his arm. The Knight fell to the ground, the sword falling at his feet. The two men prepared to attack when Sansa screamed in complete panic, " _Lady, help-"_ She begins only for her loyal wolf to dart forward.

The two men try to swing their swords at the oncoming beast but are too slow. Her wolf mechanically tears their throats out. Two gasping and blood sodden corpses flop carelessly to the ground.

Jaime Lannister was crouched on the ground groaning and panting. She hurried forward and dropped to her knee's, tears filling her eyes, "J-Jaime, are you okay? Will you live-" She breathed out and moved her hands out to try and shift him from the curled up position he was in to assess the damage. He _can't_ die. No he can't. Not defending her. No.

Something between a sob and hysterical laugh escaped his lips.

"What's going on out here?" A strong authoritative voice calls from the distance. Sansa bolts upwards and see's the flicker of a torch approaching and almost cries in relief.

"Over here! We need help! Ser Jaime has been injured-there was men-alert the maester quickly!" She yelled, her composure completely shattered. Her trembles were now violent and tears finally fell from her eyes, warming her frozen cheeks.

Lady padded towards her and pressed her bloody but warm fur against her side in comfort, rubbing her head against her stomach. Sansa can see two guards that were most likely on patrol were the ones that had spotted them. One guard returned to the castle while the other ran forward, bringing a torch of light and revealing the savaged remains of the hounds - it is still impossible to tell how many there were - and the dead bodies of the unknown men.

The guard paused as he takes in the scene but then as he identifies her, he quickly rushes over and sweeps off his cloak, placing it gently on her frame, "Lady Sansa? What happened?" He asked, surprise and strength coming through in his voice.

She continued to tremble and watch Ser Jaime's still hunched over form on the ground, "M-men came and-and there was hounds-Lady g-got-and-S-S-Ser Jaime. _Ser Jaime._ He-he's" Sansa choked out and continued staring at his form. Will Jaime be okay? What happened? Was the wound fatal? Where was he hit again?

The guard stepped away from her and crouched down to assess the Kingsguard member.

Sansa stands and watches the two men silently. Lady was still pressed obediently to her side and her blue gaze was locked on the form of Jaime Lannister. He wasn't supposed to die. He _couldn't_ die.

Voice's approached, shouting men and guards barking orders. She heard someone shout to fetch the King. Others shouted the alert Lord Stark. None of the guards moved to speak with her however. A maester came eventually, robes billowing in different directions as dropped to his feet.

Torches, so many torches illuminated the area. The harsh flicker of the flames, creating more shadows and showed that almost every surface of the ground was splayed with lifeblood. Sansa's eyes drifted away from Jaime when she heard the maester tell the knight he would be ok.

Sansa felt no relief.

Her eyes drifted around the clearing. A hounds head... a tail... the bowels of a man or hound... the semi-detached head of her first attacker. A guard nudged the appendage with his foot with a horrified expression. It was a massacre. The flesh was torn violently from bodies. The least gruesome sight was the man laying almost peacefully on the grass. If it wasn't for the deep slice in his jugular he would almost be sleeping. That must have been the man that thumped to the ground...

"Sansa! _Sansa"_ She heard her father's voice bellow. The Stark girl closed her eyes, feeling safer already with her father approaching. This was almost like a bad dream. Warm tears continued to fall from her closed eyes.

Whimpers escaped her lips. She opened her eyes again when she heard Ser Jaime grunt. The Lannister's arm was around a guards shoulder and was being helped up. Jaime Lannister wobbled uncertainly, face pale. She swallowed and approached to see if the knight needed any extra aid.

Jaime Lannister's eyes were fixated on a single point on the ground. His green gaze and almost burning into one single spot. Sansa followed his sight... only to see a sword lying carelessly in the dust... and beside it... _a severed hand._

"Sansa! Are you alright?" Ned Stark breathed as he reached his daughter, immediately pulling her into a hug.

* * *

Lady Stark slouched in an unladylike manner at her father's bedside. Her face felt raw and bones weary. She stared at the empty and lifeless eyes of her father. A sob escaped her mouth. She closed her fist around her mouth in an attempt to prevent more from escaping.

A warm hand closed around her shoulder. She looked up to see her Uncle Bryden looking down at her, his face sunk in grief and sorrow. She clasped his hand in support.

The maester moved silently and gently lifted the sheet to cover the Lord of the Riverlands dead body. Cat looked up to see Edmure staring as if in a daze at the body of his dead father. It was as if he hadn't realized Hoster was gone, despite him passing away in front of him.

Catelyn Stark cleared her throat and let her tears fall freely. Tonight she would mourn his passing. Tomorrow she would be strong. But not tonight.

A bang at the door startled the Tully's inside. Cat looked back to see a guard rudely barge his way into the room with wide eyes and panting. She stood up, fully intent on berating the man within an inch of his life,

"Sorry-Maester-we need you. There's been an attack. Jaime Lannister-Lady Sansa" The guard breathed out, eyes darting around the room. He was a young guard. Barely a man. Clearly in shock and unable to handle to situation.

The maester stood swiftly for a man his age and followed the guard out without a second thought.

Cat's heart felt like it had stopped for a moment. _Sansa... dear gods no..._


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update. I was really unsure about this chapter and I am still a little wary of it. After obsessing over it, I decided to just put it up and see. If it's that awful then I can change it again. So please let me know what you think, I was really unsure! That said, I hope that you do enjoy it :)**

* * *

Sansa stood before the ornate mirror as the Riverland maids fluttered around her, fixing any imperfections in her attire. The Stark daughter looked around her welcoming and comfortable chambers with heavy eyes. The sky was a dull grey that reflected the sombre and drained atmosphere of Riverrun castle. The boisterous celebrations of the night before had long died down and the day had become dreary and quiet. Their Lord was dead.

The eldest Stark daughter felt like an imposter. She did not belong here. She did not have a place in mourning the grandfather she had never known. Yet here she was, staring at her reflection adorned in a raven coloured gown with not a hair nor thread out of place.

A figure stepped into her room. Sansa turned to see her mother enter, also adorned in her own mourning gown and staring at her with red rimmed eyes. Though so similar in appearance, her mother had the dishevelled and broken appearance of someone truly grieving, compared to her murmurs farce.

Lady Stark approached her with eyes drowning in pain and placed two cool hands of either side of her daughters face, "You look beautiful Sansa. Your grandfather would be proud of you" She spoke quietly.

Sansa fought to dip her head in shame. Would he really? It seemed like she was the opposite that Hoster Tully looked for in his female kin. She was not an obedient and dutiful member of their family, was she? Most definitely not so after the incident the night before. Gossip had spread _very_ quickly about the attack the night before. Sansa did not know for certain the exact tales and whispers being spoken as she had been trapped inside her chambers all throughout the night. She did not need to know what they were saying. The Lord of the Riverlands had died and the castle was more interested in a piece of gossip? Disgraceful.

Bile churned in her stomach and she gave her mother a tight lipped smile in response to the compliment. Lady Catelyn dropped her hands and turned to the maids in the room.

"You may leave. I will be escorting my daughter" She declared in her Lady Stark voice though her tone was a little weak. The maids curtaised in acknowledgement, casting fearful looks to the large wolf sleeping peacefully in the corner of the room. Yes, no one would be forgetting that Lady was a direwolf anytime soon after last nights slaughter.

It had been a hard night on her mother, she knew. Lady Catelyn looked like she had not slept a wink though neither had Sansa much. The elegant Lady Stark perched herself on her daughters bed but slouched in an unladylike manner, eyes fixated on her daughter. Her attack, right after the death of her grandfather had shaken her mother like nothing else. Especially when she had been under the impression that Jaime Lannister had been the attacker. _That foolish guard._

Sansa sighed heavily and wandered over to her high windows. She watched men drudging around listlessly in preparation of the funeral. Stark and Tully men patrolled the castle dutifully while servants scrambled around, everyone looking exhausted as she felt herself. Yet they still cast curious and eager eyes in the direction of her chambers and muttered amongst themselves.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the quiet Stark ladies. They both turned to see Lady Brienne poke her head in, "Lady Stark, Lady Sansa, the funeral will be beginning soon" She said quietly. Brienne did not sleep the night before. Her short and usually messy straw hair was an exclamation point atop her head. Her armour was dishevelled and her clear blue gaze surrounded by a sea of red.

Sansa felt an overwhelming amount of guilt as she observed her sworn shield. Brienne took her attack as a personal failing.

Catelyn Tully stood up immediately and fixed the creases in her gown, visibly collected herself and walked forward with grace. Sansa nodded her head to Brienne and followed her mother dutifully, saying not a word to her protector. It would be distasteful to mention the sniffles she heard from outside her chamber door deep into the night.

As they wandered through the halls of Riverrun, people stared. They bowed their head in respect for their mourning but eyes also lingered on Sansa for signs of injury after her attack. This made more anger and shame well up inside of her. By the gods, why could everyone not let this go? Her grandfather had just died and the minds of his people were on her scandal. Lady Stark clutched her daughters arm firmly. Her sworn shield lingered behind her, much closer than usual as they walked.

Edmure Tully met them in the Great Hall. The Tully siblings embraced and chatted together in low tones. Her uncle set her a long unreadable look. Sansa stood beside her mother but respectfully kept out of the conversation.

The numerous eyes on her felt like someone was breathing down her neck. It made her anxious. Sansa was no fool. She had been wondering who had sent those men to attack her all night. Then the shame would hit her that she was thinking selfishly and should give the grandfather the respect he is due and mourn him before devising any plots. The Stark kept her face impassive and unyielding even as emotions warred inside of her.

Ser Piper and several other of Edmure's friends surrounded them to offer their condolences before the service would begin outside. Brienne stood so near her the woman's arm brushed against hers. Several of the lords and knights looked towards her for a moment before respectfully averting their eyes and not speaking. Smart men.

Try as she might, she was not deaf to the whisperings around her. They gossiped of the Hand of the Kings rage. They spoke of the crippled Kingslayer. The mauled pieces of the attackers. Of a savage monstrous wolf. Some sent pity looks that told a story of the Kingsguard member attempting to take advantage of a sweet young maiden. The more difficult of the two looks were the romanticised and sympathetic smiles of the ladies. The tragic love of Jaime Lannister and Sansa Stark. Families at ends. A brave knight, bound by his oaths. The courageous act of sacrificing his sword hand in exchange for her life.

Sansa swallowed and felt a cold sweat gathering behind her neck at the ridiculous thought. Ser Jaime certainly would not think of it that way. It would seem that she had finally been granted her wish from another life and such a long time ago.

... Her life was now a song.

Sansa hated it.

A lull rippled across the fairly busy hall and Sansa turned to see the cause. It was with relief and irritation that she saw her father striding over to their group with his usual cool and collect facade of the Protector of the North. However, a simmering rage lurked behind his usually impassive grey eyes. As they met her blues, they told her that her father was extremely displeased with her.

Nevertheless, Lord Stark placed a protective hand on his daughters shoulder in a show of support. An attack had been made directly against his family. They would need to show public unity.

When the time came for the service to begin, Sansa drifted gracefully from the Riverrun Great Hall. Her mother stood tall and proud on her left. Her father was stationed protectively on her right. Brienne of Tarth hovered directly behind her. Ser Brynden Tully shadowed his niece. Jory Cassel flanked her fathers side. Edmure Tully and his allies from the Riverlands followed the group. All were adorned with armour and carrying steel.

As they were about to exit the castle a large grey figure dashed through the corridor, the yelps and alarmed noises of men halting their group.

Lady bound directly towards the group. Everyone but the two Starks flinched at the large wolfs arrival. Her mother, grand-uncle and Brienne accepted the wolf though the rest of the group looked uneasy and fearful. The whispers had raised to alarmed and harsh mutterings at the appearance of her dear friend.

Lord Stark silently made space for the wolf beside it's mistress. The large canine made eye contact with her father before nodding her head in respect and standing by her side.

The group made their way from the castle to the funeral.

* * *

Ned Stark stood beside his daughter and wife by the river as they watched people arrive to pay their respects. It was not sudden, the death of Hoster Tully, though he was a well loved and respected man in his time. The small field was quickly over crowded as many lords and ladies arrived though some with no affiliation with the Riverlands or Hoster Tully himself.

It was disrespectful.

The Lord of Winterfell's eyes watched Ser Loras Tyrell approach beside Renly Baratheon. They were both adorned in the finest looking midnight silks, hair styled to perfection and their Houses coat of arms sown on their breast pocket. He frowned as he watched the pair chatter amongst themselves, looking amused and falsely sympathetic. Renly even laughed with a smirk.

Ned then saw Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell sending questioning looks towards his daughter and muttering.

A brief bout of icy rage ran through him before he collected himself. They were gossiping of the attempt made on his daughters life.

Time had passed very quickly since the attack on Sansa. His head had not touched his pillow though he was accustomed to this after many busy nights working as the Hand of the King. Cat had spent the night with Sansa besides. When he saw Sansa the night before, soaked with blood and staring emptily around, he felt like a broken man. It was by the old gods grace that she was not harmed. Her direwolf had torn her attackers to shreds. Several guards and knights later objected and proclaimed the wolf a 'savage' 'beast' 'monstrosity that should be put to death'. He had turned to the cravens and replied coldly, 'She is a direwolf. Nothing more, nothing less'. That had quietened the men.

Uncaring of the bloodied mess, he had scooped his daughter up in his arms and carried her safely back to the castle. Frustration and anger drove him forward to get to the bottom of this mess, the Direwolf padding softly at his side. Unfortunately, the maester was preoccupied with the Kingslayer and his severed hand. The knights hand had been severed by a blade and not torn off by the wolf. It was only this small detail that halted him enough from running the Lannister with Ice. The wound was by blade. It was by a man. It meant that Lannister had fought the attackers. The wolf did not attack the Kingslayer in protection of Sansa so he was not behind or part of the attack.

This did not make the Kingslayer innocent. No he was found _yet again_ in the presence of his daughter, unescorted. At least it certainly appeared that way. What could have been identified from the pieces of corpses was that they were all currently unknown. None of his men or a Riverland men. Which meant his daughter was out unescorted. _Again._

The Lord watched his wife and Ser Brynden accept the condolences of Lord Tully's passing. His grey eyes studied every man and woman present for suspicious behaviour.

Ned Stark was very angry beneath his calm exterior. He was angry that men had dared to attack his daughter in her mother's ancestral home, under the protection of the North, Riverlands and Crown. He was angry that she was found with not one escort of guard _including her sworn shield._ The only known individual present was the Kingslayer. _Jaime Lannister yet again._

By all accounts, it appeared as if the Kingslayer had _protected_ his daughter from the attackers, crippling himself in the process. The deadly Kingslayer had lost his sword hand, now useless in battle. Though Ned could feel no satisfaction at this act by the old gods. No, the man had protected his daughter. It was madness.

Yet, the culprit behind the attack was blindingly obvious. Justice would be served.

Lord Stark noticed his wife become restless with strain and worry filling her Tully blue eyes. He observed to see if any individual was concerning her but then he saw her gaze flickering up at the castle repeatedly.

A short lull of people approaching had him stepping forward to speak quietly to his wife.

"What troubles you?" He said under his breath.

Catelyn looked towards him for a moment before linking her arm with his and leaning against his side gently.

"Lysa should be here"

Ned's lips thinned at the mention of the woman. It was not appropriate for the woman to be present. She had a loose tongue and spouting dangerous words that would help none, "She is not in the right state of mind" He said back simply, hiding his displeasure.

Cat nodded her head, still looking displeased, "I agree. I wish she would at least say goodbye. Despite her recent behaviour, she deserves to say goodbye to our father"

Ned did not reply.

The funeral traditions of the Riverlands were to watch the Lord float down the river and be set alight by a flaming arrow. Edmure Tully fumbled with the arrow and Brynden dutifully stepped up to complete the task. His wife leant into his side but did not allow tears to fall as she watched her fathers pyre float away.

It was not as respectful as it should have been. Too many individuals were present and not enough held Hoster Tully in high enough regard. Due to the Tourney, too many people felt the need to attend. Smallfolk had fled immediately after though lower lords and hedge knights remained. Several higher Lords and Ladies did not attend though some did in an attempt to curry favour.

The King had of course been present. Ned had given his friend a nod in acknowledgement, pleased to see the Queen not by his side. Robert did not look pleased to see him and had sent him a look to tell him that they would need to discuss things after the funeral.

For the first time in the many years he had spent at court, Robert stood with his children. Joffrey positively glowed and looked arrogant while Tommen and Mrycella seemed to grasp the mourning atmosphere and behaved accordingly. Princess Mrycella looked nervous and uncertain, seemingly the only child to notice the obvious absence of their mother.

Part of Ned felt pity for the children while the larger part felt nothing but a thirst for justice on behalf of his daughter.

Yes, it was very clear who had attempted to kill his daughter. And Cersei Lannister would pay.

* * *

Sansa was physically exhausted by the end of the funeral. There was so much to be done. Letters to write, plans to make, discussions to be had yet she felt like doing none of those. Her bed called to her and she spent the funeral debating whether of not it would be prudent to get some rest before doing anything productive.

Immediately after it was over, Sansa turned to mother, "I do not feel well, may I go back to my chambers?" She requested quietly. Lady Stark nodded her head and sent her a weak smile with worried eyes.

"Of course Sansa. Uncle would you mind escorting Sansa?" She turned to her great-uncle. Brynden Tully agreed with a stiff nod. Her mother was well and truly paranoid of her safety with the attempt on her life so fresh in her mind. Sansa did not blame her.

Thankfully, the crowd parted as Sansa Stark made her way through flanked on either side by the elderly knight and her sworn shield. Though the wide berth of people hastily moving away was likely from the presence of the large and now confirmed to be deadly wolf by her side. It was as if her obedient behaviour had made everyone forget that she was indeed a dangerous animal, capable of ripping men to shreds. They certainly knew now.

Their footsteps echoed throughout the mostly empty castle as the trio walked.

The Stark peered at Brynden Tully with a curious face. Though sluggish with fatigue and feeling physically drained, Sansa would not let an opportunity slip by, "Where will you be going after everyone departs, Uncle?" She inquired casually as they mounted some stairs.

Ser Brynden frowned a little, "I am uncertain. Perhaps I will stay at Riverrun and aid Edmure"

Sansa bit her lip and wondered how to begin this conversation. Her plans surrounding her grand-uncle becoming Acting Master of Ships she had made with the King was a wonderful idea but she did not know how to implement it. Manipulating her kin... seemed wrong.

They were approaching her chambers quickly so she had to act fast, "I see... would a suggestion be completely inappropriate uncle?" She eyed him warily.

Ser Brynden's frown deepened and turned to look at her, "It depends what you have been plotting, Sansa. I am no fool and see the plans floating around your eyes" His voice was disproving and it made her feel guilty for her role of playing the game. Though it wasn't as if she had much choice, did she? Sansa Stark was not power hungry nor sadistic. She did what had to be done to protect those she loved. She would _not_ be ashamed for doing what must be done.

Her voice now spoke with the conviction she'd been lacking before, "I recommended you for an Acting Master of Ships position in the small council as Stannis Baratheon continues to be absent"

They had reached her chambers and now all three had paused outside her door.

Brynden looked confused and suspicious as he regarded her, "I see. Why did you do that?" He asked slowly, studying her carefully as if her face would reveal her motive. The knight reached up to scratch his chin.

Sansa stared into his blue eyes, so similar to her own, and replied as honestly as she dared, "My father is working himself into an early grave. He needs assistance in the South. Robert Baratheon does not run his own Kingdom and the weight of it lies on my fathers shoulders. He does not trust any members of the small council enough to delegate any duties. It is my hope that your presence will ease some of his burdens" She explained strongly.

Brynden Tully appeared thoughtful. He raised his eyebrows, "I see and the other reasons?" He inquired dryly.

A faint blush spread across her face at how obvious it was she had other motives. Her conflicting feelings on misleading her kin was making her slip. This would not good.

The Tully knight sighed for a moment looking weary. Sansa felt uncomfortable as she realised it was not appropriate to be discussing this after his brothers funeral.

"I will think on your offer, Sansa. I pray you know what you are doing. I assume you will be joining your father down south?" He asked.

The Stark daughter nodded her head.

Brynden Tully's thoughtful face turned softer, "I would get some rest if I were you. You will be needed shortly, no doubt for testimony. Your father has been on the warpath since the attack. I will be standing outside your door as guard with Lady Brienne"

Sansa felt a headache coming on as she entered her chambers.

Though all she had been desiring at the funeral was her bed now she was in her chambers it was the last thing on her mind. Her Uncle's statement drew the attack to the forefront of her mind.

 _Who had attacked her?_

Or rather, who had sent the men to kill her. The men were filthy, untrained assassins and the Hounds were taught to kill. They were savage beasts. Nothing about the bodies were likely recognisable or would trace back to anyone.

The Stark girl sat at her desk and pulled out parchment and quill and began writing. So many thoughts were swirling around her head and she felt it was now time to write her letter to Dany. The future Queen will want to know of the events concerning the Tournament and now may be the only time alone she will be able to write it.

 _Dear Daenerys,_

 _So much has happened since I last wrote you, my friend. All in this dreadful tourney and I dare say too much for me to report though I shall try my best._

 _It was with a full heart I was finally reunited with my father. He seems to have aged ten years and not three. I have since discovered that Robert Baratheon is not involved with running 'his' kingdom in any manner and is more preoccupied with wine and whores. It is obvious my father has been running Westeros single-handedly as the Usurper has filled his small council with untrustworthy ambitious snakes. Therefore, I have decided, I will be travelling south to aid my father in any way possible in Kings Landing. I will keep an eye out for any potential allies for you, your grace._

 _I met Robert Baratheon for the first time. Though I wish I could write you and tell you how much I despise him, I cannot. As your friend, I will always be honest with you and give you my truthful council. Whether or not you decide to head my advice is your choice, my queen, though I will always be plain with you._

 _I can see why my father befriended Robert Baratheon for when the man is sober he is not entirely unpleasant. Though, increasingly my father has relayed his dismay that Robert is not the boy he thought of as a brother. Robert Baratheon is not a cruel man. Nor is he sadistic, ambitious, aggressive or even superior. He is, however, not fit to be a King. The man was never meant to rule and it shows. He has utterly given up on running Westeros while he whores and drinks himself into an early death. Selfish, lustful, crude, irresponsible, incompetent he most certainly is._

 _That being said, I pray you know my loyalties lie with you and only you. I will do what is right for my family, my people and my Queen._

 _Regarding the Tourney, it was truly a disaster. I am uncertain if you have heard for it may have reached your ears that I was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty. Which would normally be fortunate if it had not been by Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. Again, I am reluctant to write of people you only know as betrayers of your family but I will continue._

 _It has become quite the scandal, your grace. My family is utterly furious and horrified at this. I have stumbled upon Jaime Lannister a few times with only Lady by my side and immediately rumours awoke of our romance. You may be confused why my family would object very strongly. I shall explain as simply as I can._

 _My family value honour highly and have a different view of it from the Lannisters. My father argued very strongly with Robert Baratheon when the man decided to pardon the Kingslayer for the death of your father. My father viewed it as ultimate dishonour and wished for Jaime Lannister to be severely punished. Additionally, my father rules the North in a fashion with mutual respect and understanding with his Lords and Ladies. Tywin Lannister rules the West through fear and punishments. My father disagrees with most of what the Lannisters stand for. I can understand why and it is useful for you to be aware of this when you take the throne. I would not be surprised if war broke out between the Starks and Lannisters. I am doing my best to prevent this for occuring._

 _This situation of being crowned has caused tensions between myself and my kin. Half of those in attendance see Jaime Lannister and myself as star crossed lovers and the other as the disgraced knight taking advantage of a young innocent lady. It is neither._

 _I find it prudent to tell you of whom I have met and their allegiances. First of all, your biggest threat to the throne will be Cersei Lannister. The current Queen. She is sharp, cunning and extremely power hungry. Fortunately, the woman despises Robert Baratheon more than yourself though she thirsts for his throne and is determined to put her son on the Iron Throne and rule in his stead._

 _The false Queen is irrational, jealous, petty and uses her womanly charm to seduce men into her service. Though as a former Lannister, she holds much power as Tywin Lannister is a brutal and politically keen man. He will defend his daughter with the might of Casterly Rock behind him._

 _Joffrey, her eldest son, is a foolish boy with a disgusting sadistic streak. He is weak though his political position may cause problems. Mark my words, your grace, if that boy sits on the throne the blood of the smallfolk will drown the cities._

 _The other two false heirs are no concern, I believe. Tommen is a young boy and not interested in ruling. He is much too sweet and innocent, to tell it true. Mycerella is intelligent and beautiful though not cruel and irrational as her mother. However, they are children yet and I cannot speak for the future._

 _Renly Baratheon, the Kings youngest brother, his loyalties lie more with High Garden than Storms End and his brother. This is because Loras Tyrell and Renly are in a rather, intimate relationship from what I gathered. Again, his danger lies with the political power and men willing to fight for him than the man himself. He is more concerned with his hair and appearance than smallfolk or his duties as Lord. I believe if you secure the loyalties of High Garden then Renly Baratheon will follow despite his brother's allegiances._

 _On a personal note, my grandfather Hoster Tully died recently. I did not know the man and I feel shame for not being more aggrieved from his passing. I did, however, discover that the former Hand of the King – Jon Arryn was murdered by poison. It was by my Aunt Lysa Arryn, current lady of the Vale. My Aunt suffers from madness and paranoia. She coddles her son to the point where he is sickly and spoiled. I have arranged for my cousin to be bethrothed with Shireen Baratheon – daughter of Stannis – another of Roberts brothers in an attempt to tie my kin with as many allies as possible._

 _The final and most important piece of information I will bestow to you is that there has been an attempt on my life. The night before several man attacked with the intention to kill. Fortunately my beloved Lady was faithfully by my side and protected me. The attackers were ripped to shreds. However, Jaime Lannister also appeared and defended myself as best he could. The kingslayer lost his sword hand in the process. He is now crippled._

 _I am frustrated, your grace. I am not certain who sent the men to end my life. I do not like the rumours of a romance between myself and the Kingslayer, it is all so ridiculous. I wanted to assure you, if word reaches you that there is nothing and never will be anything between myself and Jaime Lannister. I understand this is a sensitive for you as the man slew your father. I have been polite and tried to prevent any animosity between our families as I do not want war to come between our families. The dislike between the Starks and Lannisters may become as issue for you when you have taken the throne and I certainly do not want my family to go to war unless it is necessary._

 _I pray this letter finds you will and I will try my best to continue writing and keep you informed of the events in Kings Landing._

 _May the old gods be with you,_

 _Lady Sansa Stark._

The lady set her quill down and flexed her wrist. The letter was extremely long but there was so much to be reported. Their letters, though extremely infrequent were usually long as they could not correspond too regularly. This was likely the most factual one she has provided to date. The rest were getting to know one another and telling each other tales. Sansa told her friend about the home that awaited her. Daenerys has placed a great amount of trust in her and she does not intend to squander it. The long night was coming. Winter was coming.

Sansa read the letter over as the ink dried and pondered her situation. Who would want her dead? Why now? It was all very unusual. Sansa then set out more parchment and began writing of possible people behind the attack and speculating possible plots. It always helped her to have a visual on speculations. This amused Tyrion to no end.

She worked on this task for several hours when she was interrupted her a knocking on the door.

The Stark girl turned her head and called out, "You may enter"

Immediately the large wooden doors opened smoothly and Brienne poked her head in, "My lady, Ser Jory is here. He says your father wishes to see you" The heiress to Tarth sounded grave. It was as obvious as the sun what it would be regarding. Her attack.

Sansa Stark rose gracefully from her chair, ignoring the impulse to stretch this way and that to release the cricks from her muscles. A wistful twinge ran through her as she thought of Tyrion and his many stretches and aches from his bowed legs. She would be with him again, she prayed soon.

"Very well. Tell Jory I will be out in a moment" She relayed to her sworn shield. The large doors shut behind her and Sansa turned back to her list with a thoughtful expression. The long letter to her friend lay innocently beside it.

After a moment of contemplation, Sansa picked up the parchment with the list and held it over a candle at her desk. She watched impassively as flames raced down the parchment and the ash broke off delicately, leaving black marks upon her neat desk. Sansa then carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her bosom for safekeeping. _No one_ could see the letter. It would mean death.

The young lady took a quick look in the mirror and steeled herself for the coming questions. Sansa walked carefully to her chamber door and whistled for her wolf to approach. Lady lifted her great head and padded over softly, letting out a large yawn that displayed her deadly incisors which tore through flesh like silk.

Sansa Stark walked quietly through the halls with her sworn shield on one side and her great uncle on the other. She felt a little ashamed that Brynden Tully was forced to attend to her when he should be mourning his brother but pushed it aside. She would need to be confident for the upcoming discussion about her attack.

Lady Sansa was brought to the large chamber where she had disrupted the meeting between her father and the King a few days previous. It felt like a lifetime has passed since that carefree day riding through the woods with her father. Everything has gone wrong. But as Tyrion always told her – you cannot predict the actions of everyone, only manipulate the outcome in your best interests. Plans rarely follow through. Your worth as a ruler is not in your ability to plan, it is in your ability to adapt.

Sansa stood tall as two Kingsguard members opened the doors and she is announced. Ser Brynden Tully squeezed her shoulder in support as she entered the room.

No one was seated is the first thing she noticed. Aside from one individual, that is. One broken figure of a man seated in the centre of the room. A man that makes her conscious feel like a blizzard in the dead of Winter... _Jaime Lannister._ The Kingslayer was not glittering with gold, but rather, slumped on a chair in the centre of the room. His clothes were woollen, broken and dull; his entire aura seems to have dimmed. Even his usually molten gold hair, hung limp and appeared a few shades darker. She swallowed at the bitter picture he showed. Jaime Lannister slouched in the chair, face down and right arm cradled against his chest protectively. The pure white bandages covering his stump the brightest thing about him and almost appeared innocent.

Sansa then took in her father who was standing stiff and ready closest to the doors and nearest to herself. His face was calm and composed but there was an alertness to his body language that spoke of a readiness to strike at any moment. Ned Stark was prepared for battle. She had never seen her father appear so... dangerous before.

Robert Baratheon stood almost beside his crippled Kingsguard member. The large man in both height and girth looked annoyed, impatient and... angry. A wave of true fear took her then. Robert Baratheon's temper was well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. She prayed to the old gods she would not be at the end of it.

"I presume you know why you've been summoned Sansa?" Her father asked, his voice colder than usual as he addressed her.

The young girl reminded herself she was a woman wed thrice. She was not a child and did not need to cower like a guilty child before her father.

"Yes father" She replied calmly, making eye contact to show she would not be begging for his forgiveness anytime soon.

His grey eyes were impassive as he looked back, "Very well. Would you like to tell us exactly what occurred the night previous? From the beginning" He said the last part strongly. What it implied was _why you left your chambers unescorted._

The Stark girl took one deep breath before speaking with a calm but steely and unwavering voice, "Of course Father. I had just left mother, Uncle Edmure and Grand-Uncle Brynden with Grandfather. I had said my goodbyes and did not want to intrude upon the private moment as it was obvious he was on his last breathes" She began.

All eyes in the room were settled on her.

Jaime Lannister had even lifted his head to stare at her carefully. It was the calculated look of a predator. His gaze was wary and patient. It was as if he was waiting to see if she would attack. Robert Baratheon frowned but listened with beefy arms across his chest. Ser Brynden stood closely beside her in support while Brienne had moved back towards the chamber door to guard respectfully.

Sansa continued, "It was late and I needed to take Lady out to do her business before I retired for the night. But no one was around. Everyone was either still celebrating or preoccupied with Grandfather-"

Her father looked increasingly frustrated until he interrupted her, "-And you thought you would ignore my direct order and wander around unescorted?" He finished.

The silence in the room was a little uncomfortable. Sansa kept a tight rein on her own temper. She stared impassively at her father, "Not intentionally no, I was with Lady. I believed she could protect me suitably"

Sansa stared at her father and he stared back. She was aware that she was in the wrong but would not beg or plead. Yes she had disobeyed a direct order but it was not intentional and the order was given as her father refused to trust her. That alone stung her.

The staring match between the Starks was interrupted by Robert Baratheon's inelegant snort. Irritation flickered across Ned's face and he turned around to frown at his friend.

The current King raised his eyebrows, "Well she is right about that, Ned. That Wolf certainly did protect her alright" He mumbled the last part and shot wary eyes towards the Direwolf at her side. Sometimes Sansa forgets Lady's presence as it is a constant at her side. Without her, she feels bare. Lady is a part of herself.

Knowing that the Stark Stubbornness that Dany and Tyrion used to speak of with fondness and irritation with regards to herself and Jon in her previous life, Sansa knew she would have to yield slightly. She was not arrogant enough to think she was entirely faultless. The Stark would balance a line between holding her ground and yielding to her father.

Sansa bit her lip and swallowed her pride, "Father... I did not intentionally set out to disobey you" She admitted quietly and cast her eyes downwards. All of her teachings from Littlefinger and advice from Tyrion told her to _not_ display honest weakness. Never bow down even when you are wrong... But this was her father...

Ned Stark watched his eldest daughter impassively.

"...I was frustrated and upset last night. I felt trapped, alone and did not have anyone to speak to. I did not want to burden mother any more as she was with grandfather and you were busy yourself" She sighed and looked up again.

Sympathy was showing on Robert Baratheon's face. A quiet understanding on Brynden Tully's. A frowned thoughtful expression of puzzlement and suspicion from Ser Jaime. Her father simply watched her.

Sansa swallowed again, "I wanted to be alone. I did not wander far at all, I simply wanted a little fresh air and to clear my mind while out with Lady. I understand why you did not want me unescorted and it is not entirely to do with my safety"

The room was silent.

Sansa continued, "I am sorry, father" She said quietly but voice ringing with honesty. She truly was.

Ned Stark observed her for less than a moment before nodding. It was all she could hope for in that moment. Sansa continued her story.

"Ser Jaime called out to me" She explained. Sansa could see from the expression on Ser Jaime's face that he fully expected her to place full blame upon his shoulders. She did not blame him, "I was... _irate_ with him" She sniffed delicately, "I... suppose I took my bad temper out on him" She looked down. Although the knight was fully deserving of her attitude and much more for foolishly crowning her, knowing that moments later he defended her and crippled himself in the process made her ashamed.

"I had turned to walk away but then Lady growled and looked alert. It was then that the Hounds attacked. A sword came at me from behind and I ducked" Sansa frowned as she attempted to recall as much details as possible, "...The attacker had a powerful stench. I have never smelled anything so foul. He was adorned in rags, rotted teeth and slimy hair. As I turned to face the first attacker another man approached and put a blade to my throat from behind. The disgusting man began to swing his sword when Lady attacked him. I was only aware of five men but there could have been more"

Sansa closed her eyes as she tried to remember every detail, "One of the men did call out the name... _Skinner_ perhaps?" She opened them again to see everyone staring at her, "Ser Jaime fought two of the men at once but another crept up behind him. He... tried to move out of the way but did not manage to completely avoid the blow. Lady then joined the fray and finished the men off" She finished.

Her father nodded looking troubled, "Did the men not say anything about a revenge or do you think there is anything about them that would be recognisable?" He added.

Sansa considered this. It had all happened to quickly she is uncertain, "The men all appeared lowborn. They swung their blades like butchers. Aside from the unearthly stench of one of the men, they are quite unrecognisable" She said.

Her father sighed.

Robert Baratheon looked angry and ready to deliver retribution. Jaime Lannister's green gaze was fixed on her. His face appeared almost blank but there was a certain openness to it that was not there previously. Sansa could have blamed the interaction on the Kingsguard knight. Said that he approached her and grabbed her. That he was even a part of the attack. But she did not. Sansa could have spun a tale in which she was the innocent victim and placed all of the blame on his shoulders. She could have sworn he lured her out and tricked her into disobedience. She did not. Instead she stood tall, admitted her wrongs and apologised. The Lannister looked almost confused. She had the power in this situation and did not use it to strengthen herself.

Robert Baratheon grumbled, "And just to be clear, Ser Jaime did not attack you in any way or even distract you enough for the men to get nearer you" He asked.

Sansa blinked and said firmly with Stark Steel, " _No_ your grace, I had begun walking away when the hounds attacked. Ser Jaime was already some distance away by this point. He did not have to intervene and nothing the men said suggested otherwise. Ser Jaime was unarmed"

Robert Baratheon nodded and accepted her story. For some curious reason the false King almost appeared fond of the kingsguard member. Though... Robert Baratheon would probably like the man who slew any Targaryen regardless.

"And how did the Kingslayer fight back if he was unarmed?" Her father queried.

Sansa frowned and felt almost offended at his lack of faith in her. She gave her father a pointed look, "He must have taken a sword from one of the fallen men. It was an old, curved and rusted blade he fought with. I highly doubt a Lannister would even hold such a sword voluntarily" She commented dryly.

A chuckle emerged from the Kingslayers lips, "She is not wrong" He smirked.

Her father glowered at Ser Jaime. Robert Baratheon then sighed as if all this conversation was boring to him. Well, he was a man of action certainly. Conversing as civilised beings was possibly too much for the man.

"Lady Sansa, after you were crowned, were you approached by anyone or notice anyone giving you... unfriendly looks?" Robert Baratheon asked vaguely and waved his hand.

Sansa frowned. Did they believe the perpetrator to be someone present at the Tourney? It seems unlikely though entirely possible. At the moment, Sansa believed the most likely person behind the attack is Joffrey. This attack may be similar to the one against Bran years ago. Though if it _was_ carefully planned then it certainly would not be anyone at the Tourney. However, Sansa has been tucked away in Winterfell this entire time. She has not been exposed to the game yet and is unlikely to have picked up any enemies. At least one that would plot to kill her. Unless Dany has told someone of their correspondence or discovered it. Nothing is certain.

"No, your grace. I immediately left with my grand-uncle and was with him until I left my grandfather's chambers that night before the attack" She replied.

For the first time Ser Brynden spoke up, "Aye she's right, your grace"

Ned and Robert exchanged looks. One which Sansa was very curious of. It was her father that spoke, picking his words carefully, "You have said that the Queen doesn't appear very fond of you... did she attempt to approach you after the Tourney?" His voice was deep and unhappy.

Time froze in that moment. Cersei Lannister. Was that wretched Whore Queen truly the mind behind her attack? Sansa had considered who might be responsible. Cersei Lannister _was_ the obvious culprit. It would not surprise her one bit if the Queen had ordered an attack in a jealous rage. Though it was _too_ obvious, wasn't it? The Lannister woman was not as shrewd as she would like to believe but neither was she an incompetent fool. The Queen would not order an attack upon her so soon from men she did not trust implicitly. Perhaps she would have sent Ser Jaime to do her dirty work but _those men._

Sansa held in an expression of disgust as she recalled the stench from one of the men the night before.

The stench... that was the stink of smallfolk. Their blades were crude, not to mention the hounds. They were not animals from the Riverrun stables. They were trained to attack and kill more than animals. They would need to be raised to be brutalised animals as such. By all accounts this attack was planned and it did not seem much like Cersei Lannister. Sansa knew the woman. Unfortunately too well. Though it was possible, the attack seems quite unlikely to be orchestrated by her. In fact, Sansa hadn't even entertained the thought of the woman in her list. This was not the whore queens type of plots. Hers were more vicious and well thought out. She struck in cruel and unusual ways. No, she was almost certain it was someone else.

But that left her at a dilemma. Sansa swept her eyes across the room. Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon looked grave and angry respectively. They looked certain of their conviction of whom was responsible. There was only one option to them. Sansa's eyes crept to Ser Jaime. His gaze was impassive, almost resigned. Did he believe his sister was behind this? It appeared entirely possible. The Knight even appeared abject though angry and conflicted over the guilt of his lover and twin.

Everyone in the room did not need convincing.

Thus, gave Sansa a brilliant opportunity, did it not?

The dilemma she faced was whether to give the impression that it _could_ have been the queen. It seemed everyone else would ensure Justice would be served. Sansa would be neutralising an enemy. A reckless, powerful and irrational one that despised her. The issue of Cersei Lannister was difficult. Alongside Littlefinger, the woman was one of her biggest opponents that she did not intend to take on until Daenerys arrived in Westeros. With the ruthless woman gone, Sansa's plots will become much easier. This was an incredible opportunity.

Sansa opened her mouth to reply when a thunderous banging startled everyone in the quiet room. The door opened to reveal Jory and three other Northern guards. The Kingsguard members shuffle in quickly behind them with arms on their pommels.

Jory looked distressed, "I am very sorry to disrupt you, your grace" He first says to the King. Jory then turns to her father, "Lord Stark, I am afraid a very urgent message has come from the Wall. It claims to know whom is behind Lady Sansa's attack"

Suspicion and doubt filled her before surprise. Who exactly would be writing from the Wall? Jon and Samwell will have no knowledge and neither should any other Black Brothers. It seems rather far-fetched. A distraction to deter the actual culprit. An interesting development that may lead to the true perpetrator.

Her father immediately strides over to Jory. Hesitation flickers throughout the loyal man's eyes. Sansa turns fully to observe the situation.

"Lord Stark... I am afraid the letter is addressed to his Grace" Jory speaks slowly and carefully. The northern guard's eyes look to the King, "A note was written specifically detailing that the letter be read by only the King" He relays blankly. It was abundantly clear what Jory thought of this stipulation.

For the first time in Sansa's life she thought her father might be disrespectful to one of his men. His jaw is clenched and his deep breathes are loud.

Robert Baratheon huffs, "Just bloody take the letter Ned"

The Stark girl lets out a small smile. Millions of faults the usurper king has and yet his loyalty to her father is not one of them.

The Hand of the King takes the letter and reads it swiftly, the entire room watching him carefully. Sansa wishes she could read it over his shoulder as she often did with Tyrion. It made her husband amused and often commented that his height was good for something.

Sansa is certain the Raven holds dangerous words as her father appears much more irate than before. His features appear carved from stone and his grey eyes bite as cold as ice. The letter is perhaps insulting. Ned Stark crumpled the parchment in his hand.

"Utter nonsense. I must deal with this immediately" The Protector of the North bites out. Her father moves to stride out the room.

"-Ned!" Robert shouts. Her father pauses and turns around with forced patience on his face, "At least tell me who it claims to be" He speaks. The large King walks over and places a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "You're not in this alone, you know. At least let me read the letter"

Her father looks as high strung as a bow about to release an arrow. His lips are thin as he replies, "The letter is a farce of pathetic lies"

The King, for once, actually looked patient as he held his hand out, "Let me decide that then" He answers back.

Respect for his position and duty to obey clearly warred with telling his friend to mind his own business. Duty and honour were always first for her father. The only instance when it was not being when it involved the safety of his family.

Her father handed the King the note.

Sansa looked back and made eye contact with Ser Jaime. The Knight, still downtrodden managed to send her a weak eye roll in gesture to the two men in front of her. She fought a smile as a wave of relief crashed over her. Jaime does not hate her. Thank the old gods and new.

The King took a longer time reading the letter than her father. Whether it was a reflection on his intelligence or not was uncertain.

"Snow... snow... isn't that your bastard?" The King asked with a confused frown.

Sansa's body sprung to attention. Someone is attempting to blame _Jon_ for her attack? Someone must know his identity. It seems her letters to Dany may have been intercepted. How else would anyone know? The Dragon Queen would not reveal her nephew's identity to anyone lest someone is spying on their letters. This was a shit storm. Sansa would need to take action immediately.

Her fathers grey eyes looked to her before nodding to the King, "Yes, your grace. Though it is impossible for him to have done this. It is not like him"

Something flickered across Robert Baratheon's face, pity? Sympathy? Whatever it was made her bite her lip in restraint.

"...Ned" He said almost gently.

Sansa's mind was running through problems and possibilities. The impending argument between the King and the Hand of the King, she had no patience for. Both men were stubborn and they did not have the time for this.

She interrupted her father mid-speech, "Father" She called out in a gentle but warning voice. Grey eyes shot to hers and looked betrayed.

"Father" She repeated much more softly and forced herself to look contrite, "Please calm yourself, do not be angry with the King for his hesitation. He does not know Jon like you or I and might think your duty and love for Jon is overriding your common sense"

Her father looked only mildly appeased. Sansa stepped forward and spoke in a practical and matter of fact tone of voice, "We can investigate if Jon may be responsible though it is highly unlikely. We were attacked by hounds. Hounds _trained_ to kill others. There is no possible way Jon had the contacts or time to train these dogs from birth to brutalise them in such a way. Even if Jon had the motive, he does not have the contacts or ability to carry this out. What we should consider is whom sent the letter if if that individual may have motive to want me dead" She explained.

Clearly, she had hit the nail on the head as the two men exchanged looks. The King eventually shook his head, "Maybe against the Starks but a direct attack against you, Lady Sansa seems unlikely. If he was going to kill someone, why not you Ned or your eldest son?"

Sansa took in this tiny piece of information greedily. Her suspicions against the writer of this letter only grew. An individual with a grudge against the Starks, in particular her father or Robb. It felt like the answer was obvious and yet so far away. It itched her brain like a twisted braid at the back of her head.

Sansa spoke up, "Perhaps it was not about killing me or revenge in general, rather, the response my death would cause. Would it benefit the writer in some way or another?" She suggested.

The King and her father stared at each other. Her father spoke the words quietly but dangerously, "Full restoration of his position and reward of honour. He is using my children as tools in a bid to weasel himself out of justice"

The King looked grave, "Go on then, deal with it" he waved his hand.

Sansa was very frustrated that her father left the room swiftly, northern guards trailing behind him. She wanted, no, _needed_ to know the writer of the letter. They were attempting to blame Jon.

Sansa turned to her grand-uncle, silent this entire time, "Uncle Brynden?" She asked. His blue eyes sought hers and his eyebrows raised expectantly, "Do you mind finding out whom wrote the letter and I can perhaps try to help this situation?" She requested politely.

The elderly knight looked at her carefully, "Do you truly believe you should be getting involved Sansa?" He challenged.

Sansa met his challenge calmly, "It is always useful to have an outside perspective. My father is angry and rightfully so, my mother is grieving at the moment. It is always useful to have a woman's perspective, uncle" She smiled.

Her uncle let out a chuckle, "I agree on some occasions. You are very much like Cat, you know. Just as annoyingly right like her too" He shook his head fondly, "I will see what I can do" he winked to her as he moved confidently from the room.

With one of her protectors gone, Brienne moved silently to her side again. The King had retreat to a quiet corner of the room and poured himself a deep goblet of wine and regarded her carefully.

A small pea of caution appeared in her stomach. She waited quietly until he spoke. Once again, her eyes drifted towards Ser Jaime. The Knight had appeared to have lost all interest in what was going on. His demeanour was noticeably slumped again and he stared at the ground. The Stark felt a little uncomfortable as his blatant position in the centre of the room. It was almost as if he was on show. The man had saved her life. He deserved a little dignity.

"Tell me, Lady Sansa" The King finally spoke up as he walked over. She kept a friendly impassive mask firmly on her face, "Speak to me true, not as your king but as your father's best friend, do you truly think my Queen had nothing to do with this?" He said quietly observing her with a deep frown.

The dilemma was present again. Should she condemn the whore queen? Jon was in a troubling situation and she did not know all the players nor plots. But Sansa had allies and contacts in the North. No true harm would ever befall her brother. He would survive this attack against him. It was much more important to ensure Cersei Lannister be neutralised before she became a true threat. Robert Baratheon could easily dispose of her. This was a golden goose of an opportunity. One that comes once in a lifetime.

She spoke carefully, "No, your grace. It seems she holds little love for me but I do not think she was behind this attack. There is no evidence to suggest so and from what little I know of her it seems unlike something she would be a part of" Sansa almost whispered.

The voice of Littlefinger inside of her mind was supremely disappointed. Weak, it sneered. Yet, this was _Jon._ Her family. Even if he was proven innocent after this, it was uncertain. Yes Sansa could have claimed it was Queen Cersei and Jon could be proven innocent in that manner. But the man who plotted against her brother would have another opportunity. Protecting Jon was her priority even if it almost physically pained her to make such a foolish move in the game.

Robert Baratheon still frowned. He downed his goblet in one, "Right" He sighed. The man then looked between herself and Ser Jaime, his gaze softened, "I think I give you two a moment alone" He said and then looked towards Ser Barristen, "Stay here and guard Ser Jaime now, would you? I'll get Preston and Blout outside" He remarked.

The King then walked slowly towards the large doors. She frowned as she watched him in a confused manner. At last moment he turned and sent her a wink.

 _By the old gods and the new._ Robert Baratheon believed there was some forbidden love affair going on between herself and Ser Jaime. Or at the very least, some sort of attraction.

The doors shut behind them with a loud bang, echoing throughout the room. A slightly uncomfortable silence was now present. Only herself, Ser Barristen, Lady Brienne, Lady and of course, Ser Jaime was left. She stared at the doors.

"Not very discrete, is he, little pup?" Ser Jaime's teasing voice called out, weaker than usual. Sansa turned to regard the man. He made a pitiful sight indeed. Still slouched with a thin mask of bitter amusement that fooled no one.

Sansa walked over to the decanter of wine slowly and poured a cup, "No he is not" She agreed evenly. The Stark girl then approached the disgraced knight and held out the cup for him. A smirk firmly in place he took it and swallowed a long gulp greedily.

As he pulled the cup away from his lips he asked, "What was that for exactly?"

Sansa shrugged delicately, "You looked as if you needed one" She replied.

A bitter snort escaped Jaime's lips, much like Tyrion as he agreed. Sansa felt guilty, uncomfortable and vaguely annoyed she was put into this position.

"I wanted to thank you for saving my life last night, Ser Jaime. You did not need to" She chirped kindly, still at a respectful distance.

Ser Jaime's green eyes were empty, "No, I did not" He agreed.

There was only silence for a split moment, "Then why did you?" She asked, genuinely curious.

The knight responded with a lewd glance, "Maybe I hoped you would let me under your skirts"

A shift from behind told her that Ser Barristen was not amused at the crude comment. Neither, it seemed was Brienne. Her friend and sworn shield stepped forward.

"Watch how you speak, Kingslayer" She commanded high-handedly with her hand resting threateningly against her pommel.

Ser Jaime laughed, "Pardon me, it seems like the wine has loosened my tongue. My apologises Lady Sansa" He spoke almost graciously, "Wench" He smirked again at Brienne. Her friends face coloured unattractively red. This only amused the Lannister more.

Sansa felt a headache come on for her lack of sleep and the situation in general. She rubbed her temples.

"Unwell, Lady Sansa?" Jaime asked.

She sighed and pursed her lips together, "No, Ser, I simply did not sleep well last night"

Ser Jaime leant back on his chair and took an arrogant pose. It was almost a welcome relief from the empty shell of a man he was before. It seemed bantering with Brienne lifted his spirits. How odd.

"If you ever need help getting to sleep, I would be remiss if I did not generously offer my services" He again let his gaze drift up her form.

Brienne this time moved hastily forward to block her from view, "How dare you speak to Lady Sansa that way, Kingslayer. You should have lost your tongue as well as your sword hand" She reprimanded harshly.

Her patience had left her by this point. She placed a hand on her friend's large shoulder and smiled comfortingly, "Thank you Brienne but I can handle his inappropriate comments. You are here if I have need you"

The heir of Tarth looked uncertain but unwilling to go against the implied command of her mistress.

Jaime looked entertained by the gesture, "Have nightmares been troubling you, my lady?" He picked up the conversation.

"No, my dreams were fine, Ser, though did not last as long as I would like" She replied irately. This conversation was pointless, she had much better things to be doing.

"Would you like me to make your dreams come true, my lady?" He spoke earnestly though his green eyes danced with dark amusement.

Sansa rubbed her temples again, "No thank you Ser, though dreams most certainly do not come true"

"Are you sure?" He asked, voice dripping with condescension.

She looked him dead in the eye, "Well you are still here"

Ser Jaime let out a bellow of laughter. It was almost sweet if it was not so mocking in sound. His sunshine was returning to him. It unsettled her how happy that made her.

"Now that I have relayed my gratitude Ser, I really must be going" Sansa begged off, impatient to discover the identity of the man who wrote the letter.

Ser Jaime looked almost disappointed, "I see" He replied. Sansa straightened herself and smoothed her skirts as she prepared to leave.

He smirked, "Indeed. Still, I thank you for "Before you go, I must also relay my gratitude for not condemning me for the chopping block for my crimes when it was in your power to do so"

Sansa turned to frown at the man, "You were innocent. I was only relayed the truth"

Ser Jaime looked irritated and amused at the same time, "How very Stark of you"

Sansa looked at him wryly, "How very Lannister to point out that I could have condemned you anyway" She remarked.

He smirked, "Indeed. Still, I thank you for not contriving a crime to keep your honour and reputation intact despite how enraged you were when I crowned you Queen of Love and Beauty" This comment made her pause. It seemed Jaime Lannister was well aware of the position she was in.

Sansa, in a Lannister fashion, shrugged her shoulders with a teasing smirk, "Stupidity is not a crime Sunshine..." she said pointedly.

As Sansa left the room with Brienne on one side and lady on the other, she could hear the kingslayers laughter floating down the corridor.

The Stark prowled the corridors of the castle trying to hunt her father down. She intended to find out who exactly is plotting against her brother.

* * *

Arya was bored. She lay on her back on the barracks near the training area. Robb was holding some sort of meeting that she was not allowed to attend. She was apparently a distraction. They were boring anyway. Sansa would just let her know what was happening and filter out all the bullshit.

Arya sighed and glared at the tips of the tree's in the surrounding forest. The youngest Stark girl didn't think she'd miss Sansa but she had quickly come to realise how easy the red headed girl made life for her. Robb was stupid and such a _boy._ He thought he knew everything and wouldn't listen. He also didn't think it was important to keep her informed of the running of the castle or North in general. Arya had tried to explain to him that they were _wolves_ and were a _pack_ that needed to stick together. He rolled his eyes at her.

Idiot.

Arya sighed and sat up only to glower at the smithery barely visible from where she sat. She could hear the clangs of Gendry working. Another idiot. He was 'too busy' to spend time with her. He said that a lot. She didn't know what was up with her friend but the last few months he's been pulling away from her and acting differently. He made up some excuse about it being 'improper' and how 'she was growing up' and other shite. If the idiot didn't want to hang about her he could just _say_ so and not act all annoying.

Maybe she should write Sansa and see what she said about the blacksmiths behaviour. Again, Arya sighed and kicked the dust harshly. There it was again, missing stupid Sansa. Sansa who kept Arya included. Sansa who kept their family together and made sure they all spent time together. Sansa who would tell her how to act with other people and explain why people acted so falsely and stupidly. She was a people person.

But for all of her people smarts, she was no tactician. That was where Arya excelled. That and fighting. Her sister was people smart but _too kind._ The she-wolf saw how men stared at her big sister. With lust and greed. Even that creepy Theon Greyjoy. Sansa wasn't tough like her, she was carer, not a fighter. Since her father rode south, Sansa had become _pack._ Meera was her best friend, they were just alike and she spent the most amount of time together. But Sansa was _pack._ Although she was older, it was Arya's job to protect Sansa. Arya's job was to protect everyone. Other than Rickon – who was growing to be quite the vicious little fighter himself – and Bran at times without Summer, Sansa was the only one who really needed protection. She didn't have that killer instinct.

Arya liked Brienne. She was great but too... _innocent._ The woman would hesitate to deliver a killing blow. Not Arya. Sansa needed someone with careful intent and would priorities the protection of her sister.

Arya was a killer. Her primary duties since Sansa left was patrolling the lands surrounding Winterfell and hunting down any Wildings. It's gotten really bad lately with groups found every two days sometimes. The wolves were great and would hunt them down. Nymeria was ruthless and would bring back the severed heads. Shaggy dog would kill them but leave their bodies. Grey Wind would injure and then alert someone. Summer was sort of the Alpha. He was in charge of the wolves and kept control of them. Nymeria missed hunting with her sister. At night, she would prowl around Winterfell sniffing for her packmate.

Footsteps approached and the Stark girl turned around with disinterest to see Maester Luwin approach. The old man walked overly slowly, breath creating smoke in the air in front of him. His arms were clasped together and hidden under his long sleeves. The Maester pulled out a letter from his robes.

"I have an urgent message from your sister" He explained as he handed her the parchment. Arya frowned at the wording, 'urgent' as it did not bode well. That was proper talk for shit going down.

The Stark snatched the parchment and read it hastily.

 _Dearest Arya,_

 _I wish I was bringing good tidings, sister, alas I am not. There is much I wish to tell and yet I do not have the time. I pray Autumn winds do not delay this message as it cannot arrive fast enough. I need your help. There has been an attack on my life. Fortunately, with the protection of Lady – and surprisingly – Jaime Lannister I am unharmed. Yet a letter arrived claiming the mastermind behind the attack is Jon._

Arya swore foully at the ridiculousness. Jon? Try to kill Sansa? Whoever made up these lies would meet the wrong end of Needle. She continued reading-

 _I have only just discovered it is written by Roose Bolton – perhaps you will recall him. He was stripped of his position as Lord of the Dreadfort and sent to the Wall in punishment. His son was Ramsey Snow. It seems that Lord Commander Mormont passed away recently and many wish to elect Jon for the position. Roose Bolton has gathered allies and imprisoned Jon, claiming that others heard of him muttering of his plans to be acknowledged as a Stark and given a position. He claims Jon wanted out of his vows and if I was dead then father may grant him his wishes. It is a flimsy and not well thought out plot. The ideas of a desperate man at the edge of the world._

 _Additionally, you may remember for several months Jon was gone behind the Wall acting undercover to discover the plans of Mance Ryder? Roose is claiming Jon was a deserter and needs to be punished._

 _Thankfully, father does not believe this nonsense. However, mother is uncertain. You know how she has never liked Jon and is blinded by this. Father is angry and mother is distraught and acting irrationally. Grandfather passed away nought but a few days ago and she has not been sleeping well either. This is all added to the strain of the situation._

 _The reason I write to you is because I need you to make sure Jon is safe. I need you to ride to the Wall and be present in the event they decide to give 'justice' without waiting for father or Robb to arrive. Father will most likely be writing to Robb sooner or later and will probably ride North himself. Roose will execute Jon before anyone arrives, of that I am certain. Even if we seek revenge, Jon will still be dead._

 _Please, travel to the Wall and do not tell anyone you are going. Take Meera, Gendry and anyone you think will be useful. When you arrive claim you are acting as an expert witness to Jon's innocence. But in reality, if anything goes wrong, take Jon and run. Send him on a ship to Bravos and I will make arrangements for him._

 _I know this is much to ask but only you I can trust with this task. Only you are unobtrusive, strong and skilled enough to pull this off. No one will suspect a Lady._

 _Please think rationally and be as shrewd as I know you can be. If you come on too strong against Roose then he will know we are on to him. I will pray for you as well as Jon._

 _Please be safe my sister, I love you,_

 _Sansa._

Arya crumbled up the note with a determined expression. Ice burned in her eyes as she whistled Nymeria and stalked away.


End file.
